Through the Looking Glass Darkly
"I have a delivery here for Dr. Harrison Jones," the man in the dark brown uniform said as he stood on the steps of the modest suburban home. "I'll take it," the tall, slim eighteen-year-old who had answered the door said. "Are you Doctor Jones? the overweight deliveryman, with the name Bob on his shirt, said with a smirk. At five eight and a hundred and twelve pounds, the light brown haired woman could hardly have been mistaken for a Harrison Jones. Especially when the small bikini...