One in the Hand....

There was one rule that was universally understood in student halls: if the bin was outside the door, the maid didn’t come in.

Against the rattling of the key in the lock and the turning of the handle I could manage only a panicked and guttural discouragement. No time to decide what I should try and roll on top of first: dick or mag.

So there I lay benumbed, unmalleable and provocative.

Mavis, of a certain age and uncertain experience, was careful to take it all in before slowly sashaying back out.

She never looked me in the eye again.