Bathroom Monologue: The Severe Lady, Mahut-Ky

"She was one of the precious few examples of uniqueness I’ve ever encountered, and she was young, even if her expression was always quite old. She was frightfully tall and her stature suggested some voluptuousness to her character, but she wore clothing of such constraint you could not see even the inference of her figure. Even her hair was pinned as tightly her scalp as the scowl was to her lips. She wore a severity unmatched amongst her peers. Her manner was reserved, motions and words quick, eyes constantly across the scene for the most expedient conclusion that would render what she required. She had no patience for an overwritten book or solemn execution. Customs and politeness were, to her, barriers to a lifelong goal of destroying this wretched world we shared.

"If I never imagined such a person would end the world, it was only because I never imagined any single person could engineer such a thing. But if there were such a person, she was fine for the task. She was equipped to accomplish much in little time, and she had the audacity of youth, that inexperience that allows people to do what anyone with experience thinks cannot. One afternoon I sat in a parlor and listened to her proselytize how ours was a broken planet in dire need of the cleansing of life and renewal through nature’s bare machinations. It is perhaps the greatest testament to character I’ve ever witnessed, in that never during her bouts of venom or illogic did I resent her arguing that we all ought to take up arms, essentially against ourselves. I found in my breast only a longing that, should her impossible design come to fruition, I would have supported it.

"I did not join the cause, for I am a fellow of limited character, and she requires pliability. I do sell her everything at half-cost, though. She makes that much of me a follower in the faith."