He was at my window again. A scratching, like a tree branch rubbing against the metal shutters kept me up all night. Like I said before, we don't have trees directly outside the window on this side of the house. Jim still insists it's a pervert, just using a ladder or something. I suppose he could be right... but.. there's never any proof outside. No foot prints, no spots in the flowerbed where a ladder would sink in to the moist soil...
Maybe I'm losing my mind.
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