The Involuntary Voyeur.

Come share my experiences.

My room is a last-bus-into-town budget special. Always check the fan. I lie on my board and stare at the ceiling as mine rotates slowly, slowly, moving nothing. Its control panel dangles from the wall by its wires, I am afraid to touch it. My window is a hole in the wall, with a mosquito net instead of glass, the view a brick wall a foot away. Not to worry, I can still clearly hear the sounds of a busy city street a few feet away.

My room is in fact half of a bigger room, split by a makeshift chipboard wall which almost reaches the ceiling. Light from my neighbour/roommate's room shows on the ceiling of mine. There is a cockroach on the wall but he is too small for me to feel comfortable squashing, like there were culling regulations.

The shower is a shared one but the door doesn't close properly. I feel sorry for girls who have to travel under these conditions. People can watch me shower all they want, anyone who gets their jollies watching me soap up my man-boobs deserves more sympathy than censure.

I struggle to sleep. The street is quieting down but joy of joys my neighbour has returned with a friend. They talk like strangers, he sounds German, she sounds local. I start to feel a little empty. Conversation becomes short, highly efficient grunts. He is audibly enjoying himself. She doesn't even sound bored. I feel like I am sharing their bed.

I take refuge in a bubble with my thoughts. I ponder. Is he fat? Is she pretty? Does it matter? Like when a pretty girl dies and people see the picture in the paper and proclaim, oh and she was so pretty, as if the loss of beauty were the biggest tragedy. My detachment is starting to scare me.

Mercifully they finish quickly. He talks about HIV, ("A little late for that, Hans!"), and his job. You take my last cash he says, and laughs. He thanks her, they kiss and someone leaves. Some shuffling next door and my neighbour settles.

Don't let the bed bugs bite, they say, but they are coming through the cigarette burns in my sheets.