Naked

5 The little handyman

I awoke with a jolt the next morning and scrubbed my eyes in an effort to get the sleep out. I yawned like a tiger nearly cracking my jaw in the process. I wasn't a heavy sleeper and I rested enough to get by but I missed the leisure days that not even cannon fire could wake me. With a blurry eye and even blurrier mind I huffed and pushed the bed covers off of me to go about my daily routine. I would get dressed and ready to go out but only this time... I would be going to work. If that was what I could call it...

There were many things plaguing me and many thoughts weighed heavy on me, but alas I had only one head to deal with them. I was intruiged by this strange man, fascinated even...though I knew I had to act more carefully around them all, I just had to be better. I couldn't take the risk of exposure, it would be just be bad... 

I ascended from my little den and went to have my breakfast with the girls in what we called a little dining area reserved only for us. It was no more than a narrow room with little space to spare for anything other than five people at most. In the middle was an old weathered table that squeaked and moved dangerously every time someone touched it, its legs threatening to plunge and take the cutlery with it in its very own furniture afterlife. 

On the table were precariously placed pots and plates with our breakfast porridge and exquisite eggs. A boiled delicassy that I quite enjoyed when it was offered.

Five chairs surrounded the little table, each being discovered in a different side every day, a clear indication of their use. Those five chairs had seen more use and turmoil than I was old so I paid respect to the man that made them everyday. Old curtains, with just a tiny hint of dust, were hanging  in the window across the door giving a slight warmth to the otherwise bare room. The wooden floor was covered with thick discoloured rugs and and the places where it was most walked upon was evident without even searching for it.  

In general, the bad condition of this room came in contrast with the rest of the majestic bawdy house and once you crossed the threshold from there to this side, it felt like a whole different world. 

Maybe Lynette had done that on purpose, like more funds go to the fun parts? Who knew? 

Three of the honorably mentioned harlots where taking their breakfast and i would be delighted to share mine since they didn't like eggs. Which means I would eat mine in peace. 

Lola, the most chatty of the trio, was ingrossed to animatedly talking to the other two less chatty girls -Claire and Cathy with a C, mind you- who where both fascinated at the monologue. I smiled with a crook, sparing a moment to take them in without even thinking about it. 

It was nice to be back. 

 I spent all night tossing and turning, dreaming of that blasted man and barely managed to get proper sleep. I wasn't cheery but not alive yet. I ran a hand down my face trying my best to scrub the sleep off again. If those dreams continued to assail my mind every night I was never going to function properly.

'Look who's up and feeling groggy.' Lola said when she noticed me. The two girls turned to look at and chuckled.

'We do all the work yet you re the one who gets tired? I want a raise' Claire teased.

I groaned and dropped my head onto the table.

'Girls, please. Not this again' It was the third time this week...

'Please what, Foxy? From what I heard last night YOU definitely were. Who was in your room? Come spill. We won't tell a soul'

My head shot up at Claire's statement. As if...