A shy smile blossoms on her face as she clasps her hands behind her back and cocks her head to the side, smiling impishly. "I'm ready when you are."
The children missing shoes, the young men preyed on by John Wayne Gacy, the drunks confined to their fire escape — all these lost souls, they had nowhere to run.
I had to get away from the TV. Now I'm sitting in my room gazing into the cryptic face of my alien visitor, whose timing cannot be coincidental.