Let them ruin you a while let them wreck you for a spell
Quiet. All is damnably quiet. I can hear the spiders spinning in the darkness, the breath of a rat against the stone walls, a cockroach crawling through the sulphur-laden air. The roaring silence fills the air like the grumble of the sea.
The little girl rattled off an impressive order, mostly bread and pies, things that every household would need. With a guilty flicker of her eyes, the little girl also requested a few cakes. The Baker suppressed a smile and said nothing. She had a feeling those cakes would be gone by the time the girl returned home. ‘I don’t recognize you from the village. Does your family live out in the woods?’ The Baker asked, neatly piling the pastries into the little girl’s basket. ‘Yes. We’re hunters.’ ‘Goodness, all of you?’ ‘Yes. We only hunt wolves, though. We move around a lot, you see. That’s why you don’t know me.’ The Baker smiled to herself at the little girl’s bravado. ‘I think you must be very brave, to hunt wolves.’ The little girl beamed. ‘My name’s Rosie. Your pies smell lovely.’ ‘Thank you. They’re famous around here. Or at least, they were.’ The Baker tucked the cloth over the top of the basket. She eyed the girl thoughtfully. The child couldn’t be more than ten years old, rather young to be wandering around alone. It was common practice for parents to give their children brightly coloured cloaks, to make them easier to spot. Red was a popular colour, but this little girl wore a vivid blue cloak, with a sunflower embroidered on the back. The ribbon threaded through her black curls matched the cloak perfectly. ‘Are you going home by yourself?’