Klara B.

Klara B.(Cristina) She wrote 'Klara B.' on her favorite pub's unisex toilet door, with black permanent marker, though her name was actually Mary. Under the fake name, she noted her real phone number, pulled up her jeans and began to wait. Occasionally, out of nowhere, she felt as if her ideal unknown match was dialing her number right then. Those feelings were responsible for unusual shopping crises, like when she bought a navy blue satin mixed with cotton bed sheets, perfect for preventing her knees from sliding when she assumed a particular position. Or when she found the cutest baby doll, perfect for greeting the love of her life for the first time. However, mostly, her shopping items consisted mainly of German rough beers.

One day, Klara B had a strong premonition, so she drank all the beers, put on her baby doll and went to sleep on her new unwashed bed sheets. The next day she found only a nasty irritation on her neck and the landlord knocking like mad, asking for the rent. Nevertheless, she promised herself she won't get lost in such details and kept on smoothing her expectations until they almost reached consistency.

So - Klara B. wrote her fake name and real phone number on some pub's toilet door. One day, a male called her and told her he was on his way. When he arrived, Klara B. couldn't help herself but notice his tail, adorned with a red fur tuft, the cloven hooves and a pair of spiraled horns, placed right on the top of his head, where started, or, depending on the viewer's perspective, ended a sleek baldness. They went into the kitchen, where Klara B. made him a steak, he criticized her, everything being as it should, almost like in her fantasy. Later on, around midnight, the male opened his mouth to absorb the female through some hot kisses that singed her nose hair and gave her heartburns. Feeling safe with him, Klara B. let the male tail whip her right on the new, perfect, rose smelling bed sheet. His hooves were drumming a tribal rhythm on the bed panel, kind of like a Sepultura song, and his spiraled horns were scratching paint flakes off the ceiling. Before fainting with pleasure, she managed to assure the perfect male of his perfection and to quickly fantasize a semi far future with him and two kids, slapping each other with their tails, in the supermarket. Then she fainted happily.

Klara B. woke up in the morning next to the perfect male that read her fake name and real phone number on some pub's toilet door. She gently scratched him between his horns and playfully chewed his tail tuft. Feeling closer to him, Klara B. asked about his slight unusual appearance, the tail, the horns, the hooves. But when he answered by asking her instead what was with the breast nodule he was caressing since dawn, Klara B. suddenly felt like some pub's toilet door slammed in her face.