Pillow book

"I got something for you," said monshu, and with once glance I knew what it was. A couple days earlier I'd made some idle comment about wanting a New Testament in Greek, so when I saw something book-shaped in a black-and-grey plastic bag, I thought There it is, straight from Amazon. There was another larger bag which had the contours of a framed pictured; it was very uncharacteristic of him not to have gotten around to wrapping either gift.

The Bible was thick and bulky, with lots of glossy pictures. They were photo illustrations of various incidents, but done with a minimum of set and costume as if by amateurs in someone's bungalow in the Hollywood Hills. The models were young, smooth, uninked, and mostly nude. Some had dyed hair, or it might've just been from coloured spotlights. I thought the pictures were poorly done and I wanted to ask monshu if he'd saved the receipt, but I didn't want to look ungrateful.

The text seemed fine, but the annotations seemed sparse. Some were in Latin and I realised that I'd rather have had an edition with the Greek side-by-side with the Vulgate and a faithful English translation. I kept leafing through and saw that it got worse: the entire last section of the book was glossy pages, some apparently left blank for notes, others given over to Evangelical nonsense, and several straight-out advertisements for lighting fixtures and such.

I flipped to the front and saw that it wasn't just the New Testament, it was a complete Bible. In the Old Testament section, the illustrations were tasteful reproductions of paintings and sculptures with Biblical themes. Tasteful, but not particularly distinguished and often not appropriate to the passages they were nestled between. Some were textured, as if carved. I kept wondering how long was seemly to wait before telling monshu I wanted to send it back. Meanwhile, I saw that the pile of gifts had mushroomed with the addition of many smaller packages, all wrapped in dark plastic bags.

Whoowhee!

Later, if I feel I still need to, I will make a ranty post about the irresponsible dimwits who belong to the same condo association as me and their weak-minded notions. But this is not that post; I told monshu that from the moment I put down my secretarial quill, I was on holiday. I am not thinking of things which depress me; I am thinking of what a good time I will have doing whatever the hell I want tomorrow. And I may just stay up tonight reading my Persian novel because I really want to know how it ends!