Monday, January 1, 2018

A melodrama in 31—or possibly fewer—parts (#1)

Someone was knocking on the front door. Ken dimmed the lights and parted the curtains slightly. It wasn’t a vacuum cleaner salesman, a Jehovah’s Witness, or a dead person whose mangled corpse had been reanimated through the magic of a mummified monkey’s paw. Any of those would have been preferable to the person whose name he silently mouthed when he turned to face me: Clare. 

7 comments:

  1. Oh, Helen! I haven't even set up a blog and I'm feeling overwhelmed and unready in the extreme, but then I read this post. Gonna get busy . . .

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  2. Susan, I feel exactly the same way! I really, really doubt I'll manage to post something every day, so I hope that same worry won't keep you from taking part.

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