Calculating

He lies, eyes closed and breathing deep, in slumber. At least it appears that way. Every now and then his left eye flickers allowing him a slim view of the world as he now knows it.

He watches them flirt, frolic, frisk and fondle. He sees them dance, devulge secrets and dry dishes. He notices the cliques forming, the partnerships, the friendships and that women who keeps drawing everything. His eye flickers shut.

A sound nearby, and with his eyelids barely parted he watches Girl, slowly taking in the view. He slowly moves his pillow over his crotch...

He must act, he thinks. He must compose himself and get in the game, but as yet he still has no game plan. He is bewildered but knows the time is upon him.

He stretches. Yawns. Faking the slow, easy rise from sleep. He swings his legs out of the bed and eases himself vertical. The sheets fall away in his mind and he begins to see it, begins to realise what it is he must do. Now, he thinks, the game begins.