With a practised routine, the drivers positioned their trailers. Miss Adelaide’s van was parked to one side. The second trailer and its accompanying...caravan, less ornate than Miss Adelaide’s, was manoeuvred into the middle of the green and the third and fourth parked alongside. The four engines, “Morgan Le Fay”, “Lady Macbeth”, “Clytemnestra” and “Lizzie Borden” were lined up next to each other. The green became a small village within the village.The arrival of the convoy was as much an event. Randall was ruined. He quickly became the proud owner of a building no one wanted to live in, and his personal reputation was ruined also. No matter how much he denied it, and even though there was never any proof of his involvement, many people believed he'd actually perpetrated the whole business with the postcards.A year later, Dexter was found dead in the south side cemetery. He'd been shot several times by the angry father of one of the young women whose picture had adorned several of the. "It's some kennel north of the city. The police picked him up running along the highway and brought him there." She was elated. "Isn't it grand? I'll be so glad to see him again."I stepped out of bed and put my robe on. My sister was reading off the name of the kennel from the slip of paper."Are you certain it's Clyde?" I wanted to know."It must be," she assured me. "I just talked with the man who runs the place, and his description was uncanny. It could not be any other dog." I'm glad," I. When I was settled in she paused, hesitant, and then asked me a question. “Are you married?” I told her no and she continued, opening her saree to reveal some beautiful golden tan breasts capped with dark ends and prominent nipples. “Would you like to touch them, sir?” I nodded and moved closer. She reached for my hands and moved them to cup the lovely flesh. As I leaned over to taste them, she pulled back and closed her garment. “I must go now but I can return at ten o’clock if you wish.” I.
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