S, the sexy letter of the alphabet, flaunting her haunting sex appeal as she phantasmagorically strides her way into the dimly lit hall. The piano becomes silent, the men stand at immediate attention as the flaccid conversations come to an abrupt halt. This was the moment they have been waiting for. S has entered the hall, and she will choose to whom she will cleave. She will choose a new mate, a new letter she can proudly start words with or end them, it would be her choice. Her long relationship with H has left her longing for another, to be an addition to her family of vocular power. For now the other letters avoid eye contact, hoping, praying, that they be the one to be chosen. She raises her lace gloved hand, a collective gasp is heard as she points succulently towards the letter T. A new mate has been chosen.
S as far as i'm concerned, in her sexy state of self awareness, stands for none other than "sublime"
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