Finally she was released from her restraints and forced to dress in the latex cat suit before she was sent on her way. She had caught the sight of her...elf in her mirror as she drove to the next horror awaiting her. She looked like some sort of punk rock groupie slut. With the shaved stripe running down the side of her head, and at some point someone had sprayed a bright pink paint to her hair. She hadn't even noticed it during the torturous three plus hour ordeal.She arrived at the apartment. “Thank you. You don’t have to call me Mr Michaelides. George is OK.”“OK, George.” She said with a smile.There was a telephone ring coming from outside, probably upstairs, she excused herself, going back to her flat.“Hopefully next time we meet we have a longer conversation than that,” I said to myself.Looking around the apartment, it brought back memories of Sarah. Sitting down on the sofa I started to cry while holding my head. When I looked back up the room was darker, I must have been. More

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