By Maura McHugh
Read by Cat Rambo
The house tilted. A thighbone rolled off my kitchen table and clattered
onto the floorboards. I cocked my head and waited for a warning.
Silence. It was still sulking.
I whacked its bony walls with my hawthorn stick. “Out with it!” I said.
“A man approaches, you withered old crone!” The floor trembled with
“A fine house you are! Allowing a stranger to sneak up on me.”