“Virginia! Get me my walkin’ petunias!”

Alabaster Ray grabbed the small bouquet from his sister and set off down the clean side of the street. The other hand, it’s skin soaked in cocoa butter and dusted in talcum powder, gently held out a pure white umbrella, but more like a shield against the sun.

People gawked at his shiny canary yellow suit with large pink ruffles spilling out at the chest. His expensive saddle shoes, black and white, left delicate marks on the dusty shoulder, each stride measured perfectly.

Hard working men, men who had places to go, scratched their heads at the man who walked as if he too had a place to go, but who’d have him? Who does this strange creature visit with his pencil mustache, french nails, all mincing through the middle of their town square?

Men in his way parted, really out of fear and embarrassment on his behalf. Alabaster received this as a sign of respect while acknowledging his refinement.

little did they know he slept with just about every one of their wives.