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heard but not seen


launderedlace

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A former gf, S, and myself were sat next to eachother during a long-distance bus journey

'Have you got any handkerchiefs in that bag?' she asked without sniffing or any previous indication that she needed one; she was probably confident that my answer would be yes

I produced one: pale green men's with a broad satin border, perfectly laundered and ironed so as to be a sixteenth of its full size, and handed it to her. She shook it fully open, revealing the latticework of precise folds and lifted it to her nose. At that stage, she did nothing more than gently pinch her nostrils with my handkerchief, with the merest suggestion of a tiny wipe and, if she sniffed at all, it was scarcely audible. She then lay the handkerchief, essentially still immaculately laundered, with no sign of wetness visible, on top of her own small bag where it openly lay for quite some time. There was no indication of the mayhem that was yet to follow 

To be fair, the seats weren't that spacious, so it was perfectly reasonable and fine that shortly afterwards S decided to sit in the two empty seats behind; she took her bag and my handkerchief with her. The bus continued on its largely uneventful way. Suddenly, the soporific atmosphere inside the bus was violently interrupted by the sound of a huge, protracted eruption of thickly gurgling snot. I didn't have to look behind me, I would have had to stand up to see, to know that S, totally unexpectedly, was giving my handkerchief a thoroughly good seeing to 

In fact, I didn't see any evidence of the messy attack until the bus stopped for a comfort break some time later; even then, the evidence was circumstantial. S emerged onto the tarmac carrying my handkerchief: much of it, presumably now filled with her snot, was crumpled inside a clenched fist. Approximately a quarter of the fabric, still displaying neat folds, hung below: S engaged in conversation with myself and other passengers, the clean section of fabric appealingly twitching and swaying in harmony with her gestures and hand movements. The destruction caused by her earlier loud torrents of mess continued to be concealed: perhaps, in front of strangers, that was only polite

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