"Don't Look At Me"

VI

"can you do me a favour?"

she asked.

"don't look at me."

•••••

He, true to his word, shows up at my house at 5 o'clock, a tub in his hands.

I watch as he opens the front door and wonder how he managed to find out where I live.

"Hiya, little piggie, I bet that throwing white paint over you will marginally increase your horrible appearance. Oink oink."

I roll a loose pill around in my fingers, and stare at the floor.

He walks in and tosses his coat onto the floor.

Then I follow him, submissively, as he treats me like a slave in my own house.

"OK seriously, you have to have the camera. You're like, the girl of this duo, and if I can't even trust you to handle something as simple and feminine as managing the boring stuff, I will forgo this partnership."

Again I mumble, but too quietly for him to hear.

"We have to work together- it's an assignment."

But of course he doesn't hear me, and he continues to trample through the house in his muddy sneakers.

the mud bothers me.