The Seance. Chapter 557.

I was just talking to a woman. A mermaid is not enough woman to love and she is also not enough fish to fry.

At first, I could only see this woman from the back. She was sitting a stool away from me. The stool between us was tilted. I am expecting unarrived company as I write this.

From the back, I could not dope out how old this woman was. She could have been young, or, she could have been old. I could not tell, even when I put on my glasses.

The human body is about 60% water, give or take a liter.

The way she was moving, though, that made me think that this lady was older rather than younger. You will notice I have just stopped referring to her as a woman and now as a lady. A gentleman can tell.

She moved like a lady—that was the tip off. She moved comfortably in her skin. She was not awkward the way young people are. She was herself with nothing to prove.

When she turned around, I talked to her, just talked. I know now how old she is. It is none of your business. She is a mother of mothers.

There is nothing in the world more beautiful than a mother.

Now, let me tell you about this seance I went to.