In the mirror was looking at the woman we just buried. I screamed, and then blacked out. When I woke up I was in severe pain and found myself lying on...the floor. I had memories I didn’t recognize, and could barely move. I tried to stand but the pain was more severe. I thought hard. I thought about me. And I said this can’t be, I’m Michael Dreason, and then the fog happened. I blinked, and there I was, my old self. I stood up easily, went to the kitchen and poured myself a full drink. I drank it. Two women in a small space with convergent ideologies is a match made in the suburbs of hell. Increasingly, the close bond that had been mother and daughter, eroded, until the inevitable crash. It was predestined that they would clash in spectacular style, their characters being so close that it could be thought Abigail was cloned from her mother; it was predestined as an outcome, but vastly hastened by the sudden departure of her father.Neither mother nor daughter had any inkling of his. "She suggested in a kind soothing voice, "Maybe if you manage to staydry for the rest of the day, your Aunt might let you out of nappiestomorrow." She noticed the open crib next to the change table, and withwide disbelieving eyes, asked me, "Candy? Is this where you slept? Didyou sleep in the crib last night?" She seemed surprised when I noddedsilently in reply, too humiliated to open my mouth. She examined thehuge wooden crib and raised the high barred side until the metal latchclicked into. So, once she was gone, her k**s were asleep, and I was in her house alone, I snooped around her drawers to see what kind of underwear she owns. Her bras were mostly white, with an under wire, and no padding at all. Size 38C! Her panties were nothing special, mainly white cotton, with just a few colors. A pretty conservative woman, it seemed, just as she acted around me.I was still inspecting her undergarments when I heard the garage door open. I quickly ran out to the upstairs hallway, and.
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