‘Downstairs! I’d rather sleep on the sofa than put up with your goddamn whining!’ he snapped in reply. He stormed out, slamming the bedroom door... behind him. Lise lay in their bed stunned, her body still on fire, tears running down her cheeks. ‘Is it possible he could be right?’ she wondered. ‘Could there be something wrong with me? Is it my fault we aren’t getting along? Am I the one who has the problem? Maybe he’s right, if I hadn’t started working…’ Lise couldn’t sleep. And the more and more. ", I said as I gently guided her back into the den."Hello.", she said quietly," I'm not sure if I'm ready for this kind of party." You never know until you try.", I said inviting her to sit at the foot of the stairs and talk some more."I've never done anything like this and I don't think of myself as that kind of person." What kind of person is that?", I asked."The kind that fucks people they're not in love with.", she said as if I should know."What's your name?", I asked."Sharon, I'm new in. Helen did not have a wig, but as my hair was shoulder length shefelt she could cut and style it into a gamine female style that withhair gel could be made into a rakishly fashionable male style for workon Monday. She worked on me for about an hour and a half before lettingme look in the mirror. The transformation was startling. Gone was theaveragely attractive slightly wimpy guy's face and in its place was awell made up attractive woman's face of about 30. The face was framedby my light. I guessed her to be in her early to mid sixties, I found out later that I was wrong by almost ten years, she was actually in her early seventies. Mrs. Evans, Hazel, is an attractive lady with short, blonde hair. The few times I've seen her is when we've passed on the corridor or in the street. Last week I was walking past her flat, heading for the supermarket when she came out and asked me if I was going to the shops. When I said I was she asked if I'd mind getting her some milk. I said.
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