He Wore Patent Leather Shoes.
A short story about lover’s leaving, furniture and knives.
“A real friend is someone who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.” Walter Winchell
The door bell rang twice, stopped, then rang again. I wasn’t expecting anybody. Coming downstairs, I saw a shadow move across the frosted door pane, then hands formed on the glass near the edges where the beveling was clear. I looked…