Her bedroom window parallels her line of sight. Her bed seems so small and foreign from the outside. The quilt that Mother knitted for her lies crumpled on the end of her bed, a sign of someone who left the room in haste this morning. She gets the uncomfortable sense that she is spying on her own life and the even more uneasy thought that someone — or something — is spying back.
Gay sexual behaviour is normal, and it has always been for a significant proportion of the male population, and yet it is shrouded in mystery because it isn’t talked about, and when it is, it is usually in terms of it being dirty, degrading, and unnatural. I wanted to put that right.