Okay. So the teacher was a drone. He made everyone fall asleep with his monotonous nasal lectures. And when he wasn’t teaching he was nagging. Still... there was no excuse for her typos. That’s how an A grade paper ended up with an F. She looked at the F which summed up her f-ing life, and understood why Van Gogh had sliced off his ears. Life simply sucked. And if that was not all, nothing mattered anymore. Her husband of many years had just told her he wanted to leave. And she was mourning the. The clothes began to float! Out of the pile came a white frillybra, a stringy panty save for the front, a sleeveless white blouse withruffles on it and a flutter pink skirt. Two tall pink heels clopped outof the pile and it all began to come towards Ryanna!"N-no!" She ran towards the bedroom door, only for it to slam on herface, sending her fumbling to the floor on her back. She grumbled andleaned up, only for the bra to fly up her arms and press against herbreasts, hooking behind her, locking. More

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