Wet hair & underwear

7.35pm

An horrific sight. One to be remembered (not cherished, but recounted in horror). Unlike any I’ve seen before (and unlike any I may see again).

A flash of cheek, a schoolgirl giggle that should never be heard from those lips.

That boyish, joyful laugh you’ve heard so many times before. Camping. Chasing waves. Out in the bush proving your manhood. But here. Never here – this is just bloody wrong.

Quick about face. Get away from that doorway. Must escape. Jump through window if necessary. Restrain urge to vomit.

Holy crap. They're getting worse. What is wrong with them? Fricking animals.

Return to bedroom.

Can still hear thumping. Run downstairs. Worse. Don’t they know that I’m home? I’ve got to leave my uni schedule around more conspicuously.

Kochie’s on Sunrise. Volume up. Relief! Shit, this is boring. Who watches this crap anyway?

TV off. Fuck! What the hell is their problem???

Finally the thumping stops. Then a god awful moan that would make even the sturdiest of stomachs turn.

This is ridiculous. Surely this will be over soon. Getting seriously close to repression.

Breath out, and in, and out and in, and out. Wait three minutes. Feels like 3 hrs. Return to bedroom to retrieve belongings and leave.

Holy shit. Put some clothes on Mum. And dry your hair Dad you disgusting beast.

Retreat. Must not return for a least 2 days.

7.50pm

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