Two hosts ago, it took me five years to solve her issues. Her hair was blonde, where my real hair, which I hadn’t seen in twenty years was a mousy brown. I wondered what this girl’s problem was. What could be so bad as to make her want to kill herself? I turned and walked naked throughout the house looking for my bedroom.
The house was huge. She was a rich girl. I counted six bedrooms before I found one with Seven jeans in the closet. Clothes from Nordstrom’s and Macy’s abounded. A queen bed sat on a platform by the window and two stairs led down to an area with a desk and computer and another area with a small entertainment system. It wasn’t the master bedroom. That was down the hall and had been large enough to park a Mercedes. I grabbed some clothes and dressed, then ran out to clean up.