Grandpa's New Hole: Chapter Seven
- Hamlin
- Apr 29
- 6 min read
The living room was a cage of late afternoon light, dust motes swirling in the heat as Janey stood by the couch, her bare feet sinking into the worn carpet. Her heart thudded hard, a drumbeat she couldn’t quiet, and her hands twisted the hem of her tee, damp with sweat from the humid air—and from what she was about to do. Four days had passed since the basement, four days of her mind drowning in porn, her body a live wire of want. Al sat across from her, sprawled in his leather chair, a beer in hand, his gray eyes flicking up from the TV as she shifted her weight. The silence between them had grown teeth, and she was done hiding from it.
