She was drawn into them, as if there were something familiar there. Something about the victim, or about the alley, or the light . . . No, not the light, she thought, the lighting is all wrong, it should be darker. Her mind flashed with the image of herself standing in the alley, as it was in the picture, but she was not herself. She was the same woman she had seen in the mirror in her bathroom the night before. She was looking down on the dead body, outside of the light cast by the street lamps at either end of the alley. She knew, somehow, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew his name, she just couldn’t focus on it, as if she were trying to read ten point font off of a billboard. The sound of her door opening and closing had no effect on her trance-like focus on the pictures, yet, when she heard her own name, she looked up at the door and saw that same woman standing there. Confused and frozen by shock, she stared at the figure. She heard her name called out again, this time. " I guessed she was about 5ft 3" tall and had smallish breasts although they were well hidden at the time by an oversized orange sweater. No doubt it kept out the cold but that and the red hair also drew attention to her. Occasionally our eyes met when she surreptitiously glanced at me but she quickly averted her gaze. I gazed at her frequently and wondered if I would ever get a girlfriend; one that would treat me like a person, one that would love me. I couldn't for the life of me think that Jenny would be that person but it was so rare that I sat close to a girl that my imagination went haywire.My phone went off just as Helen put the kettle on to make a pot of tea and while I answered it, she asked Jenny, "Would you mind clearing the table while I wash the plates please?" Rightly I guessed she wanted to talk with Jenny without my hearing. In the background I heard them talking quietly or rather I heard Helen talking while I gave the caller instructions for restoring his computer.
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