Technically Great!

Downstairs light left on. Dwarfed by morning sun shining through kitchen window.

Empty champagne bottle on lounge-room floor.

Leather jacket lies casually strewn over armchair.

One red stiletto balances on the bottom stair. Its mate lost to a hurried kick and poor aim.

Two matching brief-cases still stand sentry on the dining table, declaring stoically, "case closed - job well done."

Numerous abandoned items of clothing punctuate the staircase as it rises to the bedroom door.

The door is open.

Two sets of busily thoughtful eyes stare at the ceiling.

The answers to all the questions of the universe fail to appear and the silence breaks.

"So...what you think?" He says.

"Huh?" she pretends not to know what he's talking about.

"You know..."

"Well ..." she begins, painfully...

"It...

"was..."

"Like shagging your sister!" he interjects.

"Brother!" she corrects.

"Perspective, I suppose" he quips.

"Yep."

Heads nod longer than they need to.

"So I guess now we'll be an even better team?" she offers "without the um..."

"Misunderstandings, born of sexual tension" he completes.

"Yep"

"Nowhere but up from here!"

"Definitely"