http://librarian.i2p/get/11852175841767136997/7981347999132133708
The couple immediately below us had been going through the world’s noisiest divorce, and the ground floor flat belonged to a young woman who had mentioned, just in passing, that she was a practicing Satanist. I was working late shifts at Reuter’s, and Karen was just making a name for herself illustrating childrens’ books. We saw each other, if we were lucky, one evening in four.