She looks at the Diorama, then back at Shelby, then repeats the sequence. She raises her left hand to her chest, fingers splayed, pearl manicured nails flashing in the workshop lights and begins tap, tap, tapping her chest, sending little quivering shocks through the open cleavage of her ample breasts. She is panting now, her breasts rising and falling with the rapid expanding and contracting, still quivering as she taps faster. The warmth and relaxation that followed the meal and the wine is now evaporating amidst a rising panic.
Today began as a typical day in the Dunford-Castro household. I woke up this morning to be told that there was no milk, and therefore there would be no tea until there was. I got up and dressed in my usual pre-tea stupor and went to the local shop where I bought bread and milk, […]