Hour Four — The Garden
He walked them outside.
The garden at the back of the house — large, walled, the afternoon light low and warm through the trees.
The grass was dry.
He stopped in the centre of it.
Looked at all three of them.
Thalia, standing with her arms crossed, green hair damp from the shower, completely naked, chin up, trying to maintain a position that her body was visibly undermining.
Jenny, beside her, head slightly down, thick thighs pressed together, both nipples hard from the air.
Vivienne, behind them both, rings glinting in the afternoon light, her full body carrying the entire record of the last four hours in the specific, well-used sway of her standing posture.
He looked at the grass.
At the three of them.
"On your knees."
All three went down.
Thalia went last, jaw set, lowering with the specific reluctant dignity of a woman who has decided to comply while making absolutely certain everyone present understands she is choosing to.
