throwing open the door, i saw a birthmark on brown flesh. looking closer, i saw tufts of black hair emerging from under the worn orange quilt, a leg being stretched out from under the covers, a slender one. i was captivated. i realised with some surprise that i was not disgusted, rather, i was looking for a scene to unfold before me with some sort of morbid fascination. they didn't know i had thrown open the doors to my own bedroom, otherwise their movements would have quickened, their mouths opening in a wide O, the eyes becoming huge pools of surprise and would the words, i can explain would visit his mind.
i feel the doorknob delicately with my fingers for want of something to do. my fingers trace the curve of the knob as i watch their bodies move under the covers in a somewhat slow and swift movement. then she lets out a tiny gasp of pleasure and i see their bodies stop moving.
he emerges from under the covers, fingers around the shaft of his manhood, and is halfway across the room to the basin when he sees me.

***
i am tired. i no longer want to scold. i want to leave people alone. i don't want to tell people what to do, nor hang a silly smile on my face everyday as though everything is fine and dandy as i waste my life away.
i am tired, and i should sleep.