Closed for myself and RedDeeDee. Your comments are welcome via PM.
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"Marjorie? Alyssa?"
Jack called the names as he stepped across his neighbors' threshold. He'd found their door ajar as he descended the stairs from his own unit in the duplex where the mother-daughter pair - Marjorie and Alyssa - and he were tenants.
"Alyssa?" Jack called again, knowing it was much more likely to find the daughter at home in the afternoon on a weekday. School was out for the summer and Alyssa, 18 and planning to start college in the fall, didn't work full-time.
He heard her voice at the same time as he spied her laptop sitting on the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. In her bedroom he thought, knowing that both rooms were down the hallway the sound was coming from. Probably just on the phone and didn't hear me.
Satisfied that nothing seemed to be wrong, Jack turned to go, glancing in passing at Alyssa's laptop.
Then he looked again.
Interesting.
The word popped into his mind. It was an innocuous word, but what he saw on Alyssa's screen wasn't exactly innocuous. {i]Naughty[/i] or risque might have been better words.
It seemed to be a girl's story about showing herself, although exactly how or to whom - or even if the story was fiction or non-fiction - was not completely clear.
What was clear was that Jack was now trespassing, both in Alyssa's home and in her private activities; or interests, in any case. Suddenly dreading the prospect of getting caught, he quickly stepped away from the counter and slipped back out the door, into the hall.
Not stopping in the hall, Jack left the house, heading out to run some errands. He found himself tring to be quiet as he opened, then shut his car door, even though he knew he was being silly. It was mid-afternoon, there was nothing unusual about his coming or going at that time. Still, he didn't want Alyssa to think he'd been spying on her.
If she had, he reflected, it would have been ironic, because he was innocent this time, but he hadn't been once before.
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He remembered one day a few weeks previously. Daylight Savings Time had just ended, and twilight was already descending as he made his way through the back yard, heading for the toolshed to get an extension cord. On that occasion, a casual glance had shown him, not Alyssa's computer, but Alyssa herself: Apparently she wasn't quite used to the earlier sunset yet, and had neglected to actually draw her shade as the world outside darkened. To be fair, the property had a high fence around it: No one really had a view into her bedroom window. Unless they were standing in the backyard.
Jack hadn't rushed away that time; he'd frozen in place, then stepped behind a tree, realizing that because of the light from her bedside lamp, the gathering gloom was making a mirror our of Alyssa's window. She wasn't likely to notice that he was outside if he was careful. In any case, her concern wasn't with the "mirror" of her bedroom window, but the mirror above her dresser. That was the one she was looking into as she undressed.
Jack had watched, hardly breathing, as Alyssa faced the mirror and, in a teasing fashion, removed first her blouse, then her jeans. And there she'd stopped. At least, she hadn't removed any more clothing. What she had done was reach for her phone to snap a picture of her reflected image.
She'd viewed the pic for a few moments, finger hovering over the screen, seeming to hesitate, then, from what Jack could see, deleted it. And that had been all Jack had known about Alyssa's flirtation with exhibitionism, until an open door had lead him to a second clue.
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"Marjorie? Alyssa?"
Jack called the names as he stepped across his neighbors' threshold. He'd found their door ajar as he descended the stairs from his own unit in the duplex where the mother-daughter pair - Marjorie and Alyssa - and he were tenants.
"Alyssa?" Jack called again, knowing it was much more likely to find the daughter at home in the afternoon on a weekday. School was out for the summer and Alyssa, 18 and planning to start college in the fall, didn't work full-time.
He heard her voice at the same time as he spied her laptop sitting on the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. In her bedroom he thought, knowing that both rooms were down the hallway the sound was coming from. Probably just on the phone and didn't hear me.
Satisfied that nothing seemed to be wrong, Jack turned to go, glancing in passing at Alyssa's laptop.
Then he looked again.
Interesting.
The word popped into his mind. It was an innocuous word, but what he saw on Alyssa's screen wasn't exactly innocuous. {i]Naughty[/i] or risque might have been better words.
It seemed to be a girl's story about showing herself, although exactly how or to whom - or even if the story was fiction or non-fiction - was not completely clear.
What was clear was that Jack was now trespassing, both in Alyssa's home and in her private activities; or interests, in any case. Suddenly dreading the prospect of getting caught, he quickly stepped away from the counter and slipped back out the door, into the hall.
Not stopping in the hall, Jack left the house, heading out to run some errands. He found himself tring to be quiet as he opened, then shut his car door, even though he knew he was being silly. It was mid-afternoon, there was nothing unusual about his coming or going at that time. Still, he didn't want Alyssa to think he'd been spying on her.
If she had, he reflected, it would have been ironic, because he was innocent this time, but he hadn't been once before.
-----------------------------------------------------------
He remembered one day a few weeks previously. Daylight Savings Time had just ended, and twilight was already descending as he made his way through the back yard, heading for the toolshed to get an extension cord. On that occasion, a casual glance had shown him, not Alyssa's computer, but Alyssa herself: Apparently she wasn't quite used to the earlier sunset yet, and had neglected to actually draw her shade as the world outside darkened. To be fair, the property had a high fence around it: No one really had a view into her bedroom window. Unless they were standing in the backyard.
Jack hadn't rushed away that time; he'd frozen in place, then stepped behind a tree, realizing that because of the light from her bedside lamp, the gathering gloom was making a mirror our of Alyssa's window. She wasn't likely to notice that he was outside if he was careful. In any case, her concern wasn't with the "mirror" of her bedroom window, but the mirror above her dresser. That was the one she was looking into as she undressed.
Jack had watched, hardly breathing, as Alyssa faced the mirror and, in a teasing fashion, removed first her blouse, then her jeans. And there she'd stopped. At least, she hadn't removed any more clothing. What she had done was reach for her phone to snap a picture of her reflected image.
She'd viewed the pic for a few moments, finger hovering over the screen, seeming to hesitate, then, from what Jack could see, deleted it. And that had been all Jack had known about Alyssa's flirtation with exhibitionism, until an open door had lead him to a second clue.
