The corridor was hot and she was slightly light-headed and dizzy; her still wet body dripped with perspiration; her long blond hair was tied up on top of her head. Sweat rolled from her chest and into the swimsuit top and along and around her large, round breasts. She held a pistol in her right hand. As she moved slowly forward, her hips, barely covered by the bottom half of her bikini, moved smoothly from side to side; her footprints reflected in the dim lights of the room behind her. Her heart pounded quietly. Lt. Monroe felt something wasn't quite right, too late. As she reached the middle of the corridor, she had just noticed in the hot haze that distracted her mind a slight brushing of her left ankle on something when all hell broke loose.The air was forced out of Patty's lungs as 2 spears struck her on either side of her lower rib cage, the razor sharp heads passing completely through her and protruding in a sickly bloodiness from her sides; they had intersected just as Justine. She had seen Tammy do this. Normally Tammy tended to be a bit of a layabout but when she needed to do her domestic duties she performed them insomething of a frenzy. Washing... ironing... cleaning... Shopping... thedomestic chores Tammy performed were integral to the running of thehouse.Tammy had not thought much on this before. As John she had expected Tammyto do her due. She had not realised exactly what Tammy did. It wasarduous, repetitive and time consuming work. Everything needed to be putin its place.She moved from one room to the next. She vacuumed, mopped, scrubbed,dusted, disinfected, sorted, unloaded, loaded, hang, stacked, folded,ironed, took stock, made lists, rearranged and adjusted... the kitchen,bathroom, bedroom, living room, laundry, toilet... everything.She even jumped online to order groceries, pay some bills, renew somesubscriptions and order some necessities.It was actually late by the time she was done. She nursed a fruitflavoured tea that she previously loathed.
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