Robyn Hoodie chapter 23: Definitely NOT R.Kelly

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Since the teachers only allowed secret notes on pieces of paper when they were thoroughly disinfected1, I mainly communicated with Star and Portia through our dedicated group chat. To summarise last week: I mainly communicated with Star and Portia.



This time it was my turn to think of something nice to do together. Somewhere inside where there was enough air circulation for a safe get together, in case it was raining outside.



After breaking my virtual piggy bank and despairing, I ended up “borrowing” the key to a closed skydiving simulator from the unknowing dad of an acquaintance of a vague friend of mine.



We all arrived at the location fashionably five minutes early.2 and entered the cavernous site with the huge horizontal fan underneath a wire cage. Once I got that running, we had a guaranteed airflow.



In hindsight, I should have informed the twins about some sort of dress code suitable for the occasion3, as knee-length skirts are not very practical when levitating / navigating at those wind speeds. Aerodynamic drag means that they were mostly upside down, with me floating around them horizontally at waist height, the closest I had been to certain parts of their anatomy so far, but the perspective was sort of weird. At some point they both let their long golden hair loose and successfully pretended to be airborne mermaids, while I did my best dolphin impersonation, going vertical with them, cutting and weaving through the airflow to the Mission Impossible tune blaring through the PA system, all the while keeping my mouth shut to avoid turning into a balloon. Next we tried a starfish configuration, which quickly turned into a collision and the illegal starkiss configuration…



A while later (sometime after we needed to disconnect for the next breath), another drawback popped up when I proposed a toast… I suspect the ceiling will be dry before the simulator will be officially open again. Let’s hope nobody will notice the red and the green socks stuck to the ceiling.



Thoroughly blow-dried and barefoot we found out that it wasn’t raining after all, so we went outside and ate our snacks on the very romantically deserted concrete parking lot. Sitting side by side we continued our cherry stone spitting competition.

1Which messes up the ink2 You can’t be too eager, can you?3Not that anyone complained.

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