I’ve been teasing my twitter followers with flashes of written minutia. What started out as a play on love = an infection, or a clinical bio-chemical process, turned into the embarrassment one might incur having to reveil that you might have inadvertently passed something nasty onto another person. I think what I love most about this is the STE: sexually transmitted emotion. I think a whole book could be written around this subject.

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Huh? Not making any sense? Although Artiste’s vignettes are non-linear, it can help to read the back story: • The Artiste Gullible back story. Of course you could just read them randomly, and trust that it will all come together at some point.

 

↓ Transcript
[image] A female anthro fish with tentacles looks at the viewer in embarrassment.

[text] Sanora covered her mouth with a tentacle and whispered from the side of her gill slits. ”I’m sorry, but you have a right to know. I mean, it’s the responsible thing to do. Things like this can spread.” She sighed, the flush in her cheeks turning an iridescent blue. ”It’s the mandate of every citizen to take responsibility for their own emotions.” She quoted the ministry’s party line on infectious STEs.

I watched her capillaries dilate expressing a sheen of sweat that betrayed an obvious pheromone attraction.

”I want you to know that I am not that kind of aquatic. I don’t make it a habit of ... you know.”

Her tentacle arms raised unconsciously, grooming her skin in a conspicuously inconspicuous way.

“My tests came back positive. My pH levels are all over the map conclusively proving that ...” She hesitated, “I love you.”

Her embarrassment visibly washed over her.

“It’s ok.” I replied. “I don’t love you ... even a little.”

“Oh thank heavens.” Her faced rippled with relief. “I would hate to think you caught such a nasty disease from me.”