The Daughter

It started off with me in a loose shirt and cargo pants, sifting through the buffet. I saw her standing there with a friend, and when I found out who she was, I knew I should've gone to my room and changed before breakfast. It was stupid, oh so stupid - what was I thinking? I quickly dumped whatever I could find onto my plate and rushed on in. I thought that I heard a word of denouncement pass between them, but I can't be sure. I ate in silence, feeling very small indeed. I didn't dare look to see if they were smirking at me, it would have been too much. I was turning red, but I knew a good shower would change things.

It was much later that day that we had our second encounter. It seemed like a fair guess that no-one would be up and about on New Year's Eve, certainly no-one queuing up to use the internet. A quick pop out to check wouldn't hurt, though. As for why I went out in those bright white socks instead of putting on shoes, I'll never know. But it just had to be that way, I know it did. As though I foresaw what was to happen, yet welcomed it! She had to be there, of course. I was greeted by a small contigent of people waiting for her, and immediately I knew this would not end well. I pretended not to see her, but who was I kidding? Her friend was there as well. I walked by them all in silence, yet I just knew their eyes were focussed on those white feet of mine.

And as I wandered around shoe-less, I discovered that there were plenty of people very much interested in the internet, even on New Year's Eve. Maybe it was stupid, but I felt half-naked to be strolling around, and could feel their curious gazes layering up on me. I pretended to look for a pizza in the fridge, and rushed back to the safety of my room. Once I was back in, I knew that it was my sanctum sanctorum, and there was no leaving it anymore, for whatever reason. I took comfort in the fact that I would be remembered, even if it was for being the uncouth gent in the bright white socks.

Walking around in white socks, searching for a pizza - it sounds ridiculous! Just like Stalin's son, eh...