It was the nipple that made Clara blush. The rest of the artwork was intricate and exquisite, the calligraphy simply sublime. But her eye kept creeping back to the nipple. The nipple belonged to a drawing of a girl, peeking around what appeared to be a silk curtain. On the opposite page was drawn a geisha in a beautiful red kimono. Unfortunately for the geisha, the girl opposite her stole all attention.

What was this strange little book? Ancient pornography? It didn't seem titillating enough for that. Despite the nudity, the images had an innocent undercurrent, taunting, but not provocative. Clara flipped through more pages, trying to figure out just what she was looking at; the delicate paper was yellowed and crumbling, so she made every attempt to remain gentle. She resolved to turn the pages only as much as she needed to in order to examine every page, and then close the cover forever.

When Clara was finished perusing the publication, she slipped it into a seal-top plastic bag and carefully placed it in a box lined with cotton. She slipped it under her bed, and left the room.