It was on a Friday, and seven thirty in the evening, and Percy, twenty-seven, married for only two years now, was home alone as she used to be most evenings, Gale her husband, twenty-five, having gone clubbing with some wild girls. Her lavishly furnished Buffalo residence was shrouded in silence, such a silence often prevalent where the dead have their final rest, and she, lying on a green couch, dying for someone to talk with, when her cell phone…….