Vicky

I was in a rush. I’d spent too long as usual making myself look presentable - but I was looking pretty, though I say so myself. My waitressing shift was due to start in 20 minutes and I had some bills to pay along the way, so I’d better get a move on. “Ryan, where’s that tin that was on the fireplace?” I asked my son, who was sitting on the sofa reading a comic book. ...