She was dressed in one of the outfits we found the other day.I ran through the back door, and up the stairs. Making my way to the attic door. It was o...en, but the three times I had walked through there before, it had been closed.“Kristen!” I shouted. Looking up the dusty staircase that led up to the attic. I didn’t hear anything. I walked slowly up the stairs, peeking over the boarded floor. Looking to the window, there was no sign of anyone being there. The footprints on the dusty floor, were. “Room for one?” she asked when she saw me.“No, I need some information,” I said.“Can’t help ya,” she said, waving me out. “You’ll have to come back later.”“You don’t even know what I need to ask.”“Doesn’t matter,” she said and looked at the clock. “It’s almost lunchtime. I’m not gonna miss my show.”“Ma’am, please...”“I’m not your ‘Ma’am’,” she barked suddenly. Then she settled back into her chair and said, “Name’s Selma.”I nodded. “Selma. Please. I only need to know if a particular person has. I had occasion to visit, delivering a parcel taken in for her by my wife and, as we all do round here, knocking and letting myself into her kitchen, where I found her in tears. She was quick to dry her eyes and obviously didn’t want me to see she was upset, so like a good neighbour I ignored her tears pretending not to notice. She accepted the gift and smiled at me putting on her usual brave face and thanking me and telling me to pass the word of thanks to my wife. Anyway, I was soon home, and. She happily hummed a tune as she weaved through the traffic on her way home. She couldn’t wait to get home and start making dinner for her young lover. As she unlocked her front door, her phone beeped alerting her to an incoming text message. Once he was inside, and free of her shopping bags, she read the new message. “Hey Sexy, remember, naked chef… apron and heels only allowed. Mwah!” Shirley smiled as she reread the message a second time; they had discussed their fantasies during one of.
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