Alone sphere insert

Simon rushed home. He had to before he forgot, before it was gone. He shoved the door back and slammed it behind, tripping on a bowl lying on the floor, then woke his computer, swearing at its slowness. He wrote.

She smiled. She was pretty - not perfectly so - her nose turned up too much at the end. But pretty. The cashier at the next till distracted her. The other girl was blonde but plain. Somehow the blonde annoyed Simon, her plainness bashing into him, upending the smooth tones vibrating through his whole. Then the beauty of his cashier turned back to Simon, penetrating and pleasing and assaulting, battering barriers silently. They chatted (Damn! Why couldn't he remember what they chatted about! No matter, he would describe the sense not the words). He smiled and looked into her soul - a counter attack of warmth but she evaded and plunged ever deeper inside Simon. She packed and smiled and talked and lifted bags into Simon's cart as he stood helpless watching owned by her, defences down in ruins. He said goodbye smiling and stumbling over ordinary words. She turned her beauty and warmth full on and he surrendered abjectly, turning and leaving aloneness breached and bleeding.