And so it begins. My guarded, private life behind the veil of the gusset is disrupted. There is an unrest, a twitchiness, and it doesn't spell the arrival of the fun sausage. Its something more deadly apparently. A virus. Covid-19. My initial thought, obviously, is where are the other 18 covids? Will they come too. And more importantly, do they directly impact vaginas? What do covids look like? Are they like penis daleks or like the dreaded speculum in disguise?
We are a very vulnerable group you know, vaginas. sensitive ph balance, requiring moist environments and no uninvited intrusions. Happily concealed, protected by vulval flowers and a sensitive doorbell. My "transport female" normally cares for me well so I'm hoping things will be ok. She's told me I cannot go for a run, so I wont be flapping past the dog walkers as usual. This makes me melancholy.
As a vagina, isolation is something I'm already familiar with, but in this heightened time of concern, I wonder if I should peek out beyond the (beef) curtains, and find fellowship. I'm not keen on the vagazelled sisterhood, or the bare faced baddies, but it might be time to reach out. Can vaginas reach out? Maybe I could use the fallopian network and send out messages via the ovarian satellites?
But what should I say. Will they receive me, or reject the more wrinkly version of themselves??? Its a risk I may have to take.
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