Cellar Soup
THE HOUSE WAS ONCE a pristine white, but age and moist air had weathered it into a slumping, peeling gray mass with dark, gloomy windows and an air of misery. It was enveloped by a thick forest of willow trees and other foliage that loved the wet environment.
The house gave Louise the chills, and as her parents pulled their car up to the front steps, jostling over potholes, a window in the foundation caught her eye.
“You’re looking awfully skinny, deary,” Grandma said with a grin. She squeezed Louise’s arms and pinched her cheek.
After depositing her bag in the guest room, Louise went outside to the window she saw. She crouched down and looked in at the cellar as a light clicked on, and footsteps thudded down the stairs.
A man with a large, knotted head entered. He disappe
