Her housecoat came together like the drapes: agape down the middle. Bloomers and an over-crowded brassiere peeked through the split. The old dame’s...arm stretched slowly up the doorjamb, straining the threadbare belt of the robe. Her teeth clicked together like they needed revving up to speak ‘Who’re you?’ she finally said. ‘Moe to my friends. How about you?’ She cocked her head. The pose might have been coquettish back when the mailbox was new, back when F. Thompson was still brightly painted.. I was in luck and a man opened the front-door and I slipped in behind him. I managed to pick the lock, it took me about fifteen minutes, but I got in. I didn't have a plan for what I would do once I got into her apartment but as I looked around I found it an excellent opportunity to snoop around a little.On the rack in the hall her clothes hang neatly on hangers and her shoes stood just as neatly under the clothes.The first thing I noticed was that the flat smelled nice. A mixture of her. More

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