I cannot get back to sleep, but I don't want to just lie here either. The bedsheet is a lovely shade of crimson maroon, and the blanket is a rich dark blue, sapphire, or dare I say peacock. Like the colour of the shirt worn by Kenny's stalker. Where have I seen that shirt before? The bedspread is white, with a rich texture of woven thread covering it throughout. I cannot comfortably lie here. I have to get up. Now. Right now, and suddenly I am standing by the bed. Usually I just lie there, one or two, two hours, three hours longer if I feel like it. Today, no. I have to get moving, and I don't even know why I am suddenly so restless. I have had enough sleep. Just enough and didn't wake up once in the night, not even to go to the bathroom.
A quick shower, followed by a quick shave, brushing my teeth and then returning naked to my room, or Carl's room. And I still don't care who sees me naked. Clean shirt, just this white T shirt should do. I am not dressing to impress. And my very faded blue jeans. Not fashionably torn. I hate that look. And now the sun is fully risen and the day outside is a riot of colour and bird noise. No socks today. Sandals should do just fine, but really I want to go barefoot. Would anyone mind? There is only one way to find out.
I open the door, and there is Carl, dressed only in the briefest red bikini briefs that are almost identical in shade to my bedsheets, and he clearly has an erection, I try not to notice and he smiles sweetly with a gentle "Good morning, Christopher", as he heads into the bathroom, leaving the door open as I hear him already peeing into the toilet. Well, where else would he pee...?
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