unholy mess

Hungry

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An Unholy Mess

†

 

Mike stood half-crouched, balancing a cup of hot coffee in one hand while lowering himself into the redwood porch chair.  Right then he heard her.  Rather, he heard the slider open and then the sound of her broom sweeping against the rough boards of the deck floor.  He sighed.  He had come out here specifically to get away from her.