Excerpt - Hot Mould.

When I really think about it Susan had this strange way of always making me uncomfortable; the way my dad’s friends always did.  I always felt like she was staring at me; ogling me.  It wasn’t creepy when she did it, it was just off putting.  Because honestly, why would anyone want to be looked at like that? Like their some sort of goddess – it’s a distortion of reality.  I’m not ugly, but I mean, fuck, I’m not Aphrodite either.  I’m just a goddam person. 

                My room smells like week old underwear and car tires.  I had vacuumed earlier and I’m pretty sure the motor is shot, not that I know anything about motors.  


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