caution. The ultimate spicy meatball from dominoes is hot. Just not stupid hot. It won't earn you

mythical status or get you a nickname like mad dog or dragon's breath. It's hot. Good hot.

The kind of hot that boosts taste nothing else. The ultimate spicy meatball with Siracha

drizzle from dominoes, it will get you fired up. Subject to availability.

The best thing I got on Deepa. That's a good question. This really nice 80s

Adidas jumper. The quarter rates which I'm wearing. This pink mini skirt.

This Jussi Kateri. Probably my unif choke boots. This pair of jeans. I wear them all the time.

The main one I'm quite into the moment is extreme layering. Range. Why it's okay. Relax

grandpa. Part-time punk, part-time polypocket. I think co-cat is the word. Baggy relaxed and a bit

out there. Necher short. I barely short short. That's like my favorite outfit at the moment.

I got it on Deepa. Dr. Nasey. I had to get out of this house to get help. I had my phone

in my pants pocket. But there was no service here. I was barefoot wearing only jeans and an

undershirt. And there was a blizzard outside. I stood in the middle of the staircase. The words I'd

just heard echoing through my head. They were whispering in the kitchen, talking about me.

How did I let it get this far? How did I not know something was wrong?

I had of me about 20 feet away with the front door. Quickly scanning the coats on the rack next to

the door. I spotted one that would likely fit. And I saw a pair of boots that were about my size.

It was my only chance. Otherwise, I would die. I imagined the movement rehearsing it in my mind.

Get to the code in boots as quietly and quickly as possible. Get them on. Get out. Run.

I stepped down one more stair. But in my haste, I hadn't tested the step first. It creeped under my

weight. I froze. Oh no. I held my breath and listened. Someone was coming. I lunged off the

step, racing toward the coat rack in the shoes underneath. From the kitchen, a woman's raspy

...