Cleopatra and Frankenstein

by Coco Mellors

Why did she feel the need to make everyone, even this waiter, like her? What a thing it must be to be indifferent to indifference.

She had not yet managed the art of being alone in public unselfconsciously, of feeling that she could watch rather than be watched.

I put them on with the utmost care, knowing that if I ladder them with one of my hobgoblin toenails, I will surely have to kill myself.

And this anger she had about women in the art world, women anywhere, really … Passion was one thing, but hysteria was another.

Ah yes of course he thinks she is hysterical how dare she have intense emotions

“A baby girl for my baby girl.” Cleo wrinkled her nose in distaste. She hated that kind of talk, he knew, which she deemed infantilizing. But sometimes he couldn’t resist. Even in this disheveled state, there was something so disarmingly feminine about her, so undeniably girlish, it seemed crazy that he was never allowed to recognize it.

a young girl fetish, nice