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My mother, fresh from the bath, appeared in front of me, lounging in the living room, wearing only a bath towel. The faint scent of shampoo wafting from her wet hair. My mother, seemingly not caring about me at all, crawls on all fours and takes out her underwear from a pile of laundry. The important parts that shouldn't be seen peek into the corner of my vision, and I can't calm down. Before I knew it, I was hugging her flushed, peach-colored body as if drawn to it.
