update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/idumea/004.md

@@ -224,6 +224,8 @@ My lovely readers, there is more that happened, and I am going to tell you! I re
 
 They leaned on each other as they stepped lightly from the train to the station, and, although the station was a loveliness in its own right, their conversation had spurred within them both a desire to explore and gladly, rather than their feet hitting the cement of the platform, they landed instead on the cool, hardwood floor of Her Lover's home where The Woman brushed her fingertips featherlight against the still-familiar jamb.
 
-There was no rush to their movements, for both The Woman and Her Lover had always been methodical in their sensuality. Perhaps it fit the mold of one of The Woman's rituals — she must touch here, first, and then she would kiss there, and only then would she brush her fingers there, across the cheek —
+There was no rush to their movements, for both The Woman and Her Lover had always been methodical in their sensuality. Perhaps it fit the mold of one of The Woman's rituals — she must touch here, first, and then she would kiss there, and only then would she brush her fingers there, across the cheek — and perhaps not — a logical progression remains a logical progression without the hint of ritual.
+
+There was no rush to their movements, and so they sat first on the couch, sharing their kisses, refamiliarizing themselves with each other. The Woman felt within 
 
 (talk, hold hands, kiss, open about plans/always honest)