My curly beaver pelt merkin matched my wig, except it had fewer grays threaded through it. Mr. K told Matt, “Pubes gray slower.”The varicose veins...in my calves would pass inspection unless someone stripped off my knee-length compression socks and did an up-close and personal inspection.I was getting used to the new me. Starting to feel more comfortable with Ms. Dowdy.Friday was a comparative breeze. At first.Matt introduced me to Gerda Hoffstatter. It was seven in the morning. We were in a. Instead, she was confronted by a young woman in her late twenties dressed in a white shirt and black trousers with long dark hair and sparkling green eyes.“Alex Haze?” Geraldine cautiously questioned.“Yep, that’s me.” The woman smiled at her. “That poor receptionist said you were on the warpath. Did I do something wrong?”Geraldine stood there, trying to get her thoughts together as the woman stepped forward and took Geraldine’s hand in hers.“You hypnotised my son, Michael.” Geraldine blushed,. More

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