The sick feeling, queasy, gastric poisonous, when he established that the lower person was none other than Vanika Cannon.
In her father’s chicken-shed.
On top of her an Angel, in copulation, the Angel holding her arms as she vaguely fought him off. It was Luper’s definite opinion that she was trying to fight him off.
Her spectacles awry, as she was given a vision of shoulder and roof. The Angel achieving penetration, her long skirt rucked to the waist, legs going, the Angel’s robes dusty, and his feathers beginning to fly off on their own. What Luper didn’t do, while playing the Peeping Tom perfectly, is go to her aid. He seemed to accept it all, at the time.
Here in the moving passion, the Virgin cries out, but the Angel’s hand is clamped across the mouth. Their composition signals: I do this because I can.
Vanika Cannon is now lost to him.
In the confusion of anger, he jumps in a pickup, goes down a road until he meets a town and holds up the bank. He didn’t apologise to the cashier for disturbing her day, which might have been the Bonnie and Clyde method of robbing a bank. Instead, and as well as, he made lots of noise, he bawled, and the police, imagining a veritable Dillinger or Creepy Kartis, came on the scene to find him weeping away, still slowly and meanderingly stuffing cash into his coat pockets. One officer discharged his revolver and the bullet struck the wall.
“I’m for the chain gang,” he moans, during the ride back to the station.
“We don’t have a chain gang, you young fool.”
“I am for prison, and the repose it brings the restless spirit. I’ve been thinking words that are too long for me,” says Luper.
These suitcases represent the world according to Tulse Luper.