“Well, the one I saw, I remember that it had really weird, um… ‘like’ descriptions,” Carlos said. “What are those called? Um, um, um…” He snapped his fingers, trying to think. “Not a metaphor, but… I remember one of the sentences said something like ‘the skin of her breasts were soft and silky like a purse’ and ‘his hands gripped her with the strength of a farmer milking a cow’s udders’. Just, in my opinion… very poor descriptions. I’ve never seen a silky purse.”
“Heh, well shit, that’s just….. bad.” He laughed, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of that description. “I can’t say any’a the shit I’ve read was anythin’ like that, it was pretty damn decent, actually. Maybe I’ll let ya borrow it sometime so you can see what erotica is really supposed to be like.”
Carlos chuckled, keeping his eyes on his project. “I dunno
if I’d take you up on that,” he said. “Just… I dunno. Maybe later. I’m really
not too curious about it.” Except he kinda was, but he wasn’t going to admit
that to another person. Nor did he really wanna be caught, dead or alive, with
Mayor Hancock’s erotica in his possession. That’d… that’d just be embarrassing.
Suddenly though, something came to him. “A simile! That’s what it is! When
comparing something with something like it in writing, it’s called a simile!
Damn, I feel dumb not remembering that; I apologize.”
The Perfect Scientist 