I’ve got nothing to do for a month but think. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. . He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony.
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