The Arts-Muse Fair

The Day you Lost your Virginity by Fred Atanda IT happened on a bright December day, in your tiny student-room, and afterwards, you lay outside yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling above, thinking you'd finally done it. Later, you wrote in your diary: 'My life of nineteen years ended on a bright, sunny day, right before my eyes, right after a bout of rough, less-than-pleasant sex.' (You decided against ‘Life as I knew it ended…’, which was truer, or ‘I lost the last of my faith…’, which was more direct but less dramatic, because you wanted something of a drama in the whole affair.) The sex wasn't good. The bitch – you forgot her name as soon as she mentioned it, and she became marked in your mind simply as ‘the bitch’ – was filthy and wild, digging her fingernails painfully into your ass, asking you to bite her nipples and squeeze her neck. She tired you out. But you hadn't expected any better. John had warned you. 'Cheap girls like that a