The Hole

She was used to it.

Being young with an awesome physique was an asset she needed not flaunt. Long stares often followed her wherever she went.

It was not the dresses she wore that attracted attention. Her rather conservative clothes even highlighted what were hidden beneath.

It was her friendly disposition that had been considered negative by most people who knew her. Obviously, they equated it to somewhat being flighty, which of course was the opposite.

“Whatever,” she would always say about the remarks. She was straight as an arrow. Period.

One day, after a long mid-morning bath, she went straight to her room to dry herself. Preparation to get dressed was a major part of a sophisticated process to look presentable. Almost every woman followed the ritual. She had a full hour to spend.

Accidentally, she noticed a small hole near the side of her dresser: it seemed new. How new she had no idea.

She inspected it. The line of sight was directly toward her bed. Anyone looking through the hole would see her in all her unclothed splendor.

Instinctively, she wrapped the towel around her body. She suspected that whoever made the hole was probably on the other side watching her.

Her mind raced. She wanted to scream at the person for violating her privacy.

She heard movements on the other side of the wall. There was a lively humming.

Slowly, she peeked through the hole, nervous what to discover.

She could not believe her eye. Her peeper was almost exactly recreating her personal morning ritual. From the drying to all the rituals of beauty care, they were mimicked step by step.

She got out her room and knocked at the next door.

“Open up, you hear!” she shouted. However, she was bewildered why she was laughing.

A young teen-aged girl wrapped up in a similar towel like hers presented herself at the door.

“You’ve been naughty,” she told her younger sister, holding her gently on the shoulders. “Why not just ask me?”

“I am embarrassed,” her sister admitted lamely. “You might think I am inadequate.”

She embraced her with all the affection she could muster, to instill in her psyche that she was no different from any other woman in the world.

“I will never, ever do such a thing,” she whispered to her perfumed ear.

BLOGGING   LIFE/STYLES   MY STORIES   WHISPER   ZONE

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