I started removingmy knee-high boots. My aching nylon-clad feet slithered outgratefully. The boots were too tall to fit into the shoe rack.I looked at...the row of similarly tall ladies' boots lined neatlyagainst the wall. I sighed inwardly. I guessed mine belongedthere, for now.I sought for my favorite pair of house slippers in the cabinet.I always wear them when I stayed here. But now I couldn't findthem anywhere. Maybe someone wore them or Grandma Serena threwthem away. She doesn't like old. A plan was forming, which was a good start to this absurd situation I’m in. I began with the only place I wrap my glossed tipped fingers around the ears of the hood. With the ears held in a tight fist, I started to pull upwards, only to feel like I was trying to pull my face off. There MUST be some kind of seam somewhere. I struggled back onto my feet for another look in the mirror, to aid my escape of this confinement. The latex vixen once again rose to meet my gaze. It desperately searched. More

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