During the summer Pia and Paul counted bunnies or butterflies on their early morning runs around the campus. At first it was butterflies, a competition, but there was a question about moths, and either way the insects were difficult to count, fluttering and flitting the way they did. Bunnies at or around dawn were plentiful, so the switch was made. Each could count only the bunnies on his or her side of the trail. If a bunny should cross their path they could both count it.

Upon arriving at their little apartment, whoever had the higher count got to be on top for their morning fuck.

With fall, bunnies, to say nothing of butterflies, became scare. We might as well be counting aardvarks, Pia lamented. Or elephants, Paul contributed, after a morning run in which the score had ended up zero to zero.

So what do we do now? Pia wanted to know. Clearly neither wanted to forgo the fuck. Side by side, Pia suggested. But with Pia barely five foot five and Paul at more than six-four, side by side wasn’t satisfactory for either of them.

On the second consecutive day without witnessing a bunny, Pia and Paul deemed stand-up sex a reasonable compromise. Though Paul was strong and Pia lithe, intercourse couldn’t be sustained beyond a couple of climaxes each.

On the third day they turned to squirrels.