Soft, velvety, almost hypnotic tones echo my name. Like an alluring whisper of magic, they streak down my spine. I shiver. Someone’s just walked ove... my grave. And I like it.I put the kettle on for the coffee I promised him after he drove me home from the party. He knew I hadn’t been in the neighbourhood long, and wouldn’t allow me to hail a cab at this time of night. Too dangerous he said. I remember gawking at how ridiculous that sounded. But he was right. I wasn’t from around these parts. I. He had us in church every Sunday morning and we spent the rest of the day studying the Bible. After his funeral, mother started letting her hair down. The day after we buried dad, she asked me to stop calling her mother and to start calling her Mandy or just "Honey." A few days after that, she swapped her mid-calf length dresses for miniskirts and thin, cotton blouses. Not long after that, she stopped wearing bras. I remember thinking the first morning she came down to breakfast without a bra. More

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