Apologies for the break. Mordino passed out in the hall and I had to keep my fingers in his mouth to stop him from choking on his tongue/vomit; stopping me from using the keyboard obviously. (Notes on Záchytka)
***
The ringing in my ears won’t let up. I’m in the corridor, stumbling, pushing and dragging Mordino toward the sanctuary of our room. Behind us, Jack’s friend is screaming blue murder. Jack isn’t screaming anything. Jack is lying still back in his room.
Murder? Mordino didn’t hit him that hard. He can barely even stand up for chrissakes.
We trundle into my room. I run the shower until it’s icy cold and sit Mordino’s contemptible bulk under the stream. I close the door to mask his yelps and head for the comfort of my stale mattress.
I’m sure my eyes are only closed for a second. Perhaps two. The bathroom door is open and Mordino is standing by the window. His clothes are dry.
How did he do that?
I’m going to say that he is actually twins. OR transdimensional shower, when he turns around he has a beard and an unpleasant but somewhat cordial demeanour.
I also like my little Brigid’s Cross style picture there. Classy.