“ I woke to find my sheets twisted like a noose around my neck. The room smelled stale and sour, last night’s alcohol still seeping from my pores. My head throbbed like a rotted tooth. I went into the bathroom, opened the mirrored medicine cabinet, and found what I was looking for on the rusted white shelves. Clippers, to trim my nails. In the kitchen, there was bacon, done until crisp, two eggs over hard, and toast, with a heavy glass jar of strawberry preserves next to it. There was also coff...ee, in a blue enamelware pot I hadn’t known I had. Leaning against the coffeepot was a letter. Twenty-third October My dear Malcolm, I am not dead, though it bothers me not that others think me so. It is easier, in this fashion, for me to go about my business unhindered. Well. Unhindered except for the temporary inconvenience of my imprisonment, but that is about to change. Nine days more, Malcolm, and then my shoes, my shoes. There are things which must be done in advance of my arrival, the hour of which draws ever nearer.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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