By Niamh Schofield
Filthy what! MY BRASH RED-HEADED COWORKER WOULD BRAG OF HER ENDLESS CONQUESTS. HER LECTURES ON LUST OOZED WITH BOGAN REGALITY. I LISTENED TO HER CARNAL RE-ENACTMENTS GREEDILY. SHE BOASTED OF NEVER LETTING A MAN STAY OVERNIGHT. THE ROOM HAD A PINK CANOPY BED DRAPED WITH LACE AND FAIRY LIGHTS. AFTER ONE AFTERNOON OF MAKING CALLS, IN BETWEEN MAKING JOKES OF ESCALATING DEPRAVITY, HER TONE GREW GENTLE. HER GENUINE CURIOSITY WAS BARELY HIDDEN. “REALLY THOUGH, HOW DO YOU LEZZAS HAVE SEX?”
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Red thread Magazine - Autumn 2020
