The Lost Mask

The Lost Mask Story

Suddenly as fall approached the seams of my deer mask began to burst apart. What was once a mask became a black amorphous cloth wriggling where it should not be. You know like underneath the chin, only on the left side of the face, blowing up above my deer eyes etc. So of course in the digital age you can order masks globally.

The search began and every day my mask would unravel. Never the same seam. Sometimes one of the sides and sometimes the front on back one on so upon spelling I suddenly was like a burlesque strumpet before a performance but on my deer face not near my star on the back part. Wriggle butt I am and dance regularly by the cage, but less than 6-month-old mask should last a little longer even if wriggled in. I spell up black. I like black masks. Despite global access, all the masks being black became an issue. I spelled and got any color but black.

Every day for four days I searched for all black masks by spelling and then dipping in the lake whilst going back and trying again. The original mask I used at the ruins had gone to pastel colors and like a wedgie cut. Which is fine for swimming but when the cold wind blows up your snorting nose you need the coverage. Goose pimples on deer noses you cannot warm up in public without getting in trouble. It means endless neck rubbing outside your normal deer group which since the pandemic can be risky. Sometimes you get all heated but not in the fun way. On a cold night, pandemic heat may be useful and of course, a strategically placed hot nose might make a new friend. Everyday I experienced the wedgie as my black mask on my deer body broke seams and traveled to crevices.

Finally, I spelled enough by the lake to get an all-black mask like the Rugby teams of Australia during Haka before a game. Rough but so satisfying. In a couple of days later while playing another black mask appears. All excited I do several and find a need to have a spectrum of black masks. My deer bottom is curved not squarish. So different configurations of the black mask let me see different things in my side vision. So loose where it need not be and tight where it should not be making a monstrosity of my ample deer female flesh.Though only a distortion of sight is it is still perplexing to see. So I donated that black mask to someone out there.

So wanting to experience Full Beauty I took my finger and plinked it on Mother Idol and made a wish. Sleeping there on the soft grass when I awoke arranged like a suit of armor laid shades of soft dark black mask. My voluptuous deer thighs shivered with delight. I could once more run around the forest in an extra-long tunic for those after-spell excursions like eating mushrooms or jumping in pits by the graveyard.

For the moment it was enough to roll in the soft grass with soft black masks.