The Nutcracker was one of her favourite ballets. Kim was huddled on the day bed dressed in her terry bathrobe, a simple flannel nightgown, and slipper.... Her grandmother's Afghan throw rug covered her feet and legs. The dinner dishes were stacked on the side table. Kim revelled in the liberating radiance created by her second glass of Drambuie and the ballet on the television. The liqueur had been one of the gifts she found under the tree. Kim smiled. Whether it was the spicy chips or Mrs.. He looked around when there was no one there, then stepped in. "Anyone home?"Upstairs, in her room, with the toy humming between her fleshy white legs, she heard nothing. Her mind was far away, her hands were being tied. The delivery-man was starting to turn back to the door when he noticed her pumps on the floor, and the then the blouse. Curious, he walked into the room and there on the stairway were the stockings. Then he saw the skirt! His brain racing, he put the box on a chair and started. More

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