Come, Flesh

Peggy had a lucid moment while crying and grabbed for the camera. She placed the orange-faced, puffy, actual tears falling pic on a swinging singles' site she'd been frequenting. There was no answer, no comment, but that seemed to be the best of outcomes. It was meant to be stunning, not icebreaking. She hoped it had killed everyone just for a sec. That would explain a lull, an angel passing over, but not this total banishment from the play sand. Then she guessed that whatever good the photo had done her fellow shivhole lurkers spiritually, the effect had priusnear reached its peak. And she needed now once again to attract flesh towards her.