Spring 1997 – The Blood Feels the Season

The house smelled of sex. Lots of sex with lots of people. I stood on the doorstep and squinted into the darkness. If any of those people were still in residence they were either asleep or had moved to some part of the building where they could not be seen or heard. I said, “I am not coming in there. I don’t have the time and I don’t want this outfit ruined.”