But, critics may object, without the fair sex,Humanity's doomed, for none but they may bearOffspring, to which I say, There are too many of us now;Men... as lovers of one another, cannot add to the surplusOf crying mouths to feed, no matter how many timesThey spill their fecund seed.But tits, if not cunts, are pleasant to see,Other critics contend,To which I answer in this way:Therefore, should we give themTo transwomen, or, for that matter,Simply paint breasts to displayAlong the highways we. ." Murielle sobbed. "Please let me in..."Moments went by and Murielle stopped struggling against the shield. She knew there was nothing she could do for her sister. That body in front of her smelled like it had been dead for days – maybe a week. She didn't know what was holding the shielding in place, or how Miranda may have somehow created it before she died, but she knew it was all lost. Her fervent week-long race to reach Miranda had ended in failure, and she no longer had a sister.Murielle. More

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