Peeping Tom 3-1-2-4 [3]

1-2-3-4 → 2-1-3-4 → 3-1-2-4 → 4-1-2-3

Window 3

A strange sight: the fat man standing! Well, half bent over half slouching. He probably never stands upright, his body couldn’t take the sheer physical strain. He’s holding a wrench and a range of tools adorn his belt: who knows if they’re practical work tools, or additional fasteners to keep up his massive trousers? With a great heave, he pushes the TV table aside then drops to his knees, shaking the whole building. He’s messing with plugs and wires: so, he’s an electrician? Explains why he’s bone idle.

The tall mother enters, her hair let down this time. There’s something fierce about her, not unattractive, but no doubt she works with men in tough men’s work. Police? Doctor? She’s got a cup of tea in her hand and leaves it for the fatso, along with a digestive on a saucer. Words are exchanged. No doubt: “Could you bring me a whole box of biscuits?” She points and gestures at the plugs and wires, explaining something: what she wants done. The fat man smiles and gives his neck fat a workout. Disgusting.