I’m sorry to say there’s not yet any lesbian love scenes. But there is a little hint of preacher’s-wife/water-fowl sex:
I had two dreams when I lived there that I still remember now. Maybe calling them dreams is not right. I had two things happen there that stick with me, thirty years later.
One is the night when I was trying to get to sleep and I saw eyes all around me, everywhere in the dark. I rushed into my parents’ bedroom and I was crying and I woke my mom up and I told her, “There are witches in the dark, watching me. I can hear them like birds, flapping their wings. I can see their eyes.”
And she said, “But they’re kind eyes, Hannah. They have kind eyes.”
And I went back into my room and I saw that they did.
I asked my mom about that recently and she said she didn’t remember that at all.
The other is that I once had a dream that I floated up out of my bed and slowly floated down the stairs and then around the downstairs, like I was almost slowly swimming through the air, my arms making large, slow circles in front of me.
In the morning, my mom found me curled up at the bottom of the stairs.
“I think that was the only time you ever sleepwalked,” she said to me, when I asked her about that.
“Do you think it’s possible that I actually flew?” I asked her.
“It would explain so much,” she said, “Wouldn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“This. That this is not something new, but something that was always with you.”
“So, you think it’s really happening?” I asked. We were sitting at her kitchen table. She turned her face from me.
“You’re going to think this is crazy,” she said, “But all your life, I wondered if you weren’t an angel.”
“Ma,” I shook my head. “Come on.”
“No, I know,” she said, “But sometimes, I’d think I saw that your shadow had wings. Even when you were very young. I thought there was something birdlike about you.”
“Why do you think that was?” I asked.
“Well, don’t tell your father, but before you were born, I met a swan who swore he was Zeus…”
“Funny, ma, funny,” but come on. It was.