SixPulling into my driveway, I looked into my rear-view mirror, half-expecting to see the stranger behind me. Having spent the drive home thinking of him, imagining him following me; while at the same time trying to shake him from my mind – it was all a little unsettling. The bizarre thing was I could still sense his eyes on me, as though they left a mark. Despite my repeated attempts to push the encounter from my thoughts, something kept forcing me to reflect on it. After several minutes and still no satisfying answer, I gave up and finally got out of my car.
Housework was the next thing on my to-do list, and contrary to the appearance of my home, I despised it, avoiding it whenever possible. My friends, however, laughed at my complaints; instead, accusing me of being a closet 'neat frea
