a small... is tot of single malt
I demand to know how he got in. I’d not left any doors open, all windows were locked and barred and his appearance belies an ability to climb up onto the roof and slither down the chimney, or burrow into the cellar.
I’ve called the police, but they say I’m low priority and it could be some time before an officer calls. Private Investigators quoted high rates plus generous expenses. But I must find out the identity of the old man who, every time I look in the mirror comes and stands in front of me, blocking out my reflection.
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