Not My Normal Sunday Morning
It was Sunday morning, and for the last six weeks, just like normal, I popped around my neighbours to see Karen while her husband, Mark, was playing golf. As always, I go through their garden and into the kitchen. Where I would always find Karen in her tiny silk nightie waiting for me. But today was different. She wasn't there, so I called her name and heard Karen call from the front room. So I headed to the front room, a...