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She thought about how she found herself here. How his words about her disobedience made her feel. She felt disappointment in herself, and ashamed. Another tear fell from her eye. She sniffled. Her left calf muscle suddenly twitched, forcing her to shift her weight. She willed herself still, not wanting to be chastised by her phone. She glanced down at it. It remained silent. She tried to picture in her mind's eye what she must look like, kneeling like that in the corner. Despite the pain in her. He just looks at it, and looking is making him thirstier. He doesn’t know how long he just sits there. He doesn’t know where the immigrant lady he’d come to talk to has gone. He doesn’t know why he can’t seem to bring himself to stand up and leave. Real fear is beginning to blossom in his heart. The sudden sound of a key rattling in the front door lock draws his attention there. After a moment, the door opens to reveal Mrs. Medina, carrying a paper shopping bag. No sign of the boy. She glances. Going into the house by the back door I heard sounds I well recognised coming from upstairs. Quickly I grabbed my camera (I was a keen photographer and used to use the bathroom as a makeshift darkroom), tiptoed upstairs and caught them: she was naked on the bed and he was fucking her senseless. They didn’t see me straight away so I had time take several photographs to record the scene for posterity. The Old Bitch went white as a sheet when she did see what was happening, and started to shout. ‘Shaye, we can’t,’ he mumbled. I gasped. ‘Why?’ He groaned in need and frustration. ‘…condoms…’ I bit my lip, hard. I could hardly believe what I was about to do. ‘Just go without, then.’ His eyes went wide. ‘Go without?’ I nodded. ‘It’s perfectly fine, I’m not ovulating.’ He stared me dead into my eyes, a grave look on his face. ‘Are you sure?’ I smiled at him and leaned in, giving him a gentle kiss. ‘A thousand times, yes!’ Taking my cue, Thomas lowered me back onto the hillside, lying.
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