Decameron: Habeus Corpus [VI/7]
Dear Percipience,
I’m in a bit of trouble with my husband. For the past year, I’ve been carrying on an affair with a noble and handsome youth of the city. It’s been wonderful, he’s young and amorous and absolutely fills my needs. Last week, my husband — a noble, naturally — found us in the act. To say he was enraged is an understatement, I’m honestly surprised he didn’t kill him.
Rather than face this head on and discuss it, he’s referring to the obscure law that we agreed upon that if ever we got something in our relationship that would merit it, we’d email the Dear Percipience column and let you sort it out.
From,
Flagrante Delicto in Prato
Hey Flagrante,
Yeah, you screwed up really bad! Unless you can find a way to honestly state why you absolutely had to have this affair in a way that both testifies to your insatiable femininity as well as his inability to satisfy you entirely, I’m afraid the situation is pretty clear here: you’ve got to be killed, according to the laws of the city.
Re: Flagrante Delicto in Prato
Just to be clear, I asked my husband if I ever once refused an advance from him, and he said no, any time he was even vaguely in the mood I rocked his world and blew his doors off, not once did I feign a headache or pretend I pulled a muscle in my back.
So my argument is, basically, what’s the crime here? It’s not like he was deprived of anything, I just have so much to give the world that for me to stifle my gift or throw it away would be a waste, may as well lay it down on this rockin’ twink if my husband doesn’t feel like it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
Thanks, Flagrante Delicto in Prato
Hey Flagrante,
That sounds rad as hell, you’re good that’s a really good argument and we’re all cool with it. Carry on.
Decameron is a newsletter recounting the 14th Century set of quarantine tales for 2020. Read the original story.
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