My eyes widened and I gave a start, as a miniature man walked out. He looked to be about 50 years old or so, dressed as a working man from a hundred years ago. His clothes were rough, but well kept. He looked neat, but as if he mightn’t have shaved for a few days. Most odd however was that he couldn’t have been more than eighteen inches tall.

He smiled and winked at me. My mouth opened and my jaw went slack. I started to interrupt Jenny but he frantically motioned me to be silent. So I sat there. Jenny hadn’t noticed my surprise and continued on. The miniature man then did a biting, funny pantomime of Jenny’s yammering, completely unnoticed, directly behind her. I should have been shocked, but his performance had captured my mood perfectly.

I smirked, and he smirked back. He pulled a miniature flask from his back pocket, pretended to offer it to me and then took a drink himself. He winked, ducked back behind the door and was gone.

But within the week he had me convinced.

I needed to kill her.