Carefully Giselle ground Blue Mountain beans, brewed them to perfection and it was ready just as Mark rushed down the stairs.
He took the cup, leaving without goodbye.
Discussions yesterday had been frank, and they had agreed that she would be gone before he was back tonight.
She could be reasonable and just had to pack her clothes.
“Coffee… “, Giselle mumbled.
“He loves his morning-potion bitter.”
She smiled at her reflection… no plastic surgery needed.
“Coffee… Mark wouldn’t notice any bitterness from strychnine”
She made herself a cup of tea while waiting.
After all, there wasn’t any rush to pack.
I seem to only be able to write about murder these days. Well if you only see potion when you see nice little bottles like that you have have to go with the flow.
Rochelle saw hair dyes this week… visit her wonderful site and admire what a little purple can do.
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