I was cutting across a field I’d cut across before when I noticed it. A curious wood door amongst the brush.
Dampness and decay assaulted me when I opened it. I descended some rickety steps and, at the bottom, gasped.
An intricate table filled the old root cellar. Around it sat six crushed velvet chairs. In each, a skeleton. Dressed to the nines in furs and other fineries. Dishes and gleaming silverware arranged neatly before them.
I never saw what was being served. One of the skeletons, seemingly motionless moments before, turned to me and rasped, “Care to join us?”
Originally from New England, I've lived in many different places and have worn many different hats. I'm currently a Head of Operations for an e-commerce website, and my husband and I have a house in California with one very spoiled dog. I'm active on Scribophile, where I'm toiling away at a fantasy novel.