microfantasy monday: observations

—There’s something about Rees that gives one pause.

—His tragic inability to take a joke?

—That, too, but I had in mind the way he looks at one.

—Oh. Yes.

—At you, for instance, in the changer after Smokey gave you six.

—Yesterday, you mean, out of the shower?

—Yes. Of course everyone looked—cracking good stripes—but Rees looked.

—I suppose one ought to be flattered.

—And last week he was hovering around outside Smokey’s study window.

—Not peering, surely?

—Listening anyhow, the afternoon you got done for smoking. Then there’s the fact that he’s always first to the changer and last out.

—Now that you mention it, he does have a way of appearing whenever anyone’s showing off marks.

—And he’s always under the showers when you are.

—I hope you’re not implying—

—I imply nothing. I merely observe, and what I observe is that he looks at you in lessons as if you’re not wearing a stitch.

—I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.

—Of course not. Remember when your crib crashed to the ground in the middle of exams last term?

—Do I ever. Radcliffe half killed me. I was an inch from blubbing.

—Remember who was sitting in front of you, whose seat jogged your form?

—You don’t mean to say Rees dropped me in it?

—I can only say he took an uncommon satisfaction in your comeuppance.

—I thought that was ’cause I’d ragged him so hard the night before.

—Perhaps. You were a sight to behold, though, then and yesterday.

—Oh, yes?

—You’ve a nice line in barely-concealed wincing.

—Thanks.

—But Rees, to summarize, is a reprobate. That’s all there is to it.

—Evidently there’s not a soul in the House who keeps closer tabs on me than he does.

—Evidently.

—Indeed.


The wicked schoolboys are back, Heaven help us.

Microfantasy Monday is the brainchild of the Sweltering Celt. The theme this week is exhibitionism/voyeurism.


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