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The Sleaze who didn't Freeze


The Sleaze who didn't Freeze

The Sleaze who did not Freeze by P.C. Darkcliff “… my panties!” Although muffled by a wall or two, the scream was so shrill it hit me like a slap with a wet rag. I opened my eyes with a gasp, half expecting to see the morning light struggling through my bedroom curtains. Instead, I saw the open laptop grinning at me like crocodile’s jaws. The laptop was in a sleep mode. On impulse, I moved the mouse, and a half-finished article leaped onto the screen. I must have fallen asleep while I was typing it. And the screaming must have been just a soundtrack to a bizarre dream. The sports guy Andy ...

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