The Black Lake: Tales Of Melancholic Horror - Plot & Excerpts
Karen Woods said as she strolled through the front door. She tossed her sleek black leather bag on the console table beside the front door, then gazed at her reflection on the pristine mirror dangling from the adjacent wall. A petite woman with effortless elegance. The light on the ceiling gleamed off her lustrous brown eyes. Her long, silky black hair sat towards the center of her back. She donned a black shirt with a boat neckline tucked into her black a-line skirt. Her knobbly kneecaps were veiled by her black stockings. Her pendulous pearl necklace glowed like the moon at night. As she gazed at herself, Karen smirked and joked, “You've still got it, mamma...” Charles Woods grabbed her waist, bumped his chest to the back of her head, and stared at the mirror. He said, “Well, we could have dinner like that more often if you learned how to cook.” “Oh, really? Why don't you learn how to cook?
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