unused body now dusty, dry, unsavoury — J. M. Coetzee

The new wife is a lazy big boned voluptuous feline woman…

I am… a farmgirl… not unaware that there is a hole between my legs that has never been filled.

“I am a child,” she tells him, “Despite my years, I am an old child, a sinister old child full of stale juices. Someone should make a woman of me… , someone should make a hole in me to let the old juices run out.”