Existence Womb (26)

   
   "Existence Womb (26)"
    
   Miriam wended through the illuminated day, the Sun gleaming divine, and palled around with Buck, assisting him in putting some spark plugs within a 1969 Boss 302 that he was meticulously attempting to restore to a sophisticated level of classicism, saying:  "Now some like the Big Block--they even have a quasi-astral realm known as Big Block Highway, where only a SS Chevelle 454 or Boss 429 can roll upon that asphalt ballet of thunder and rumble; however, I prefer to be mercurial outta the pocket with swift clutch and shift--this Boss 302 may not be made for ultra high speed cruising, but it will sink the fillings into your teeth running 0-60."
   Miriam smiled:  "I hear ya Buck."  And she snorted with a giggle, looking to see if he really had fangs and all, not thinking there was sublimity in such monsters of the night world; indeed, she now knew that Buck was a magnanimous soul fused into Otherworldly things, and her coyote instincts told her it was all good.
   Buck was indeed a protector.  A friend forged by her father to assist her in getting the best of reptilian slime that controlled corporations, governments, and simple people leaning towards altruistic thoughts--this picked up on by the telepathy of iniquitous creatures wanting to destroy them by twisting their family against them, or friends, crafting, as always, things asymmetrical and cruel for a hellish purpose to further make misery through lies and murder.   
   Then, through her autodidactic studies, she remembered loudly:  "Werewolves have telepathy; hence, they can't get the best of Buck.  Hell ya!" 
   Moreover, she blushed again, noticing how svelte Buck was:  "Golly."
   Buck with:  "What did you just mutter?"
   She kept on blushing . . .