# -5 MCA
Hannelore was enjoying her seventeenth cigarette of the night (she was doing things in twenties these days, so there were three more to go) when Winslow shouted, "Hannelore! We have a new email!"
She blinked. "Not porn?"
Winslow made a little face. "No, it's from your therapist."
Hannelore looked a bit surprised until she read the email. And then quickly set to packing up her minimal possessions.
['stablishy! There'll be official bye-bye postiness going up tomorrow.]
She blinked. "Not porn?"
Winslow made a little face. "No, it's from your therapist."
Hannelore looked a bit surprised until she read the email. And then quickly set to packing up her minimal possessions.
['stablishy! There'll be official bye-bye postiness going up tomorrow.]