Tharon perched in the recesses of the mind of some feeble woman, old, lonely, a sad existence really. He watched as she wished evil upon the people she thought below her, watched as she belittled them with her sharp comments, her bitter rebuke, taking her insecurity out on them to make herself feel better about her weaknesses. And she had plenty of weaknesses. One of those was her habit of falling asleep while watching her afternoon soap operas. Tharon watched the drivel on the screen as he stared at the images flashing through her mind, watched as she imagined herself as the sultry blonde, locked in Enrique's arms, their lips meshed together. Such sickening fantasies to compensate for such a miserable, depressing life. What is it with these humans and their tortured souls? Tharon shook hi
