"I was thinking about Mother."

"I was thinking about Mother..." As he spoke, Walter clutched his head in pain. When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in a hallway. Looking down at his hands in disbelief, he took in the slowly dimming light of the setting sun washing over his skin from a distant window. Raising his eyes, he gazed around the familiar house. The long hallway was carpeted by an authentic Oriental rug. Uncle Thompson had picked it up on his travels apparently. On the walls, candle holders hung, ready to be lit in a short time when the sun finally dipped beneath the horizon. Mother and Father’s room was a short way off, then there were a number of guest rooms, and his room and his sister’s room, situated in the furthest end of the hall. He ran a hand along the wallpaper--a dizzying pattern that both his mother and father had picked out but now despised. But they refused to admit that they hated it until the other did.

The sound of water splashing about had him looking towards the door in front of him. Walter glanced towards the setting Sun and calculated the time. Normally his mother would be the one in there right about now. Impulsively, Walter pushed the door open to check. Stepping inside, he found himself looking at a tall, elegant woman. Her blonde locks cascaded over her delicate shoulders and over her arched back, ending near her thin waist.

Was this a dream? But everything felt so real, from the splash of droplets of water that dampened his face to the heavy feeling of breathing in a warm, steam-filled room. Shocked at his sudden entrance into the room, the blonde woman froze, standing in the bathtub, the pan of water she had been pouring over her head clattering to the ground.

“Hello, Mother,” Walter said, staring at her unabashedly. His sister certainly got her body from his mother’s side of the family. Despite her usually modest and bookish character, His mother’s chest was quite prominent, matching her thin waist. Perhaps the most imperfect thing about her was her waist, which was leaning towards the small side. Her skin was pale from a lack of exposure to natural light, with his mother preferring to hide in some dark corner with a book.

Snapping out of her shock at Walter’s sudden appearance, his mother quickly but elegantly--she was never one to forgo proper mannerisms--stepped out of the bathtub and toweled herself off. Despite her best efforts, a proper drying off required her, at numerous points, to not properly cover herself, either exposing her tender nipples or well maintained bush that hid her womanhood.

Once dry, she began dressing herself. Her undergarments of choice were a lacy black bra and matching knickers. Much more something one would expect to see in France than in Britain, and certainly not what a modest woman like his mother would usually wear.

“Should I expect a sibling when I arrive home, Mother?” Walter asked dryly. After all, if he could appreciate the appeal of such undergarments, Father certainly would be willing to show his appreciation in a more physical manner. His mother coughed awkwardly, even as she finished dressing herself in front of him.

“Enough of your glib tongue, Walter,” she said coldly. He only laughed at her tone, knowing she was using frigid anger to hide her burning embarrassment.

The two stared at each other in silence for a few minutes, before Walter spoke up. “Though this is all some sort of illusion, it is nice to be home again. Ah, look at me. Not even gone a day and already homesick.”

His mother’s icy glare softened. “It will be a good experience for you. See the world, see all that it holds. Of course, I am not one to enjoy walking amongst the trappings of the world, I much prefer to explore them from the comfort of a lounge chair with a fireplace and a glass of scotch.”

Walter nodded, and the two lapsed into silence once more. There was really no need to talk. Everything that needed to be said had been said when he first left, anything else was, therefore, unneeded. A clock sounded, and his mother smiled lovingly at him. “Time for you to go, Walter.”

The young man nodded. His mother paused for a moment, before looking out the window. Walter followed her gaze. A tall, broad-chested man with firm gait and strong gaze strode up the cobblestone pathway, “And, as far as another sibling goes…”

“Yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious, Mother,” Walter said. Despite having brought it up in the first place, he still blushed slightly. After all, thinking about Mother and Father’s marital encounters was something he’d rather not do, thank you very much.

The sound of a machine resonated in his ear, causing Walter to stumble. It repeated again and again and again, each time louder and louder, drowning out Jane's cursing. As the sound grew louder, it became more distinct. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Walter's vision was filled with blackness, and his ears were filled with the ticking of a clock.