Somehow, that - thing - had been out there, waiting for me for what? Eleven, maybe twelve years? And it was just as powerful, just as terrifying as ev...r.Usually, I saw it in my mother's hand as she held it, back side toward me, ready to hit. From my perspective, the white bristles looked like an old woman's hair. The brush had this persona for me of a cruel old woman - or a ghost of an old woman.I looked at the screen and tried to sit back down in the chair. I couldn't, so I turned away again. I cleaned up, closed up the shop, pulled my gleaming truck around to park outside while I ran over to the punch clock to clock out for the day, then headed home. It was going to be one of those stupid busy weekends, and I had hoped to maybe run a couple of errands before going to the bar just to get a head start, so I wasn't going to be seeing Boytoy. By the time I got into my bedroom at home with my dead phone and started fighting with it to get it to charge, it was 5:25. By a stroke of. More

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