Lyn Stone - The Arrangement

“Hungry,” he mumbled. And not just for food, he thought.

She sighed and pulled him toward the kitchen, where she had obviously been sitting. One of the chairs stood out of place. Usually they all did. Someone had scraped away his huge mound of candle wax from the center of the table and replaced it with a dish holding a fat new taper.

Kathryn nudged him to sit. “There’s a bit of the bacon from this morning. Your Grandy brought a tin of biscuits, and I cooked some of the apples I picked out back.”

Jon looked around while she gathered the food on a chipped plate. The whole room seemed different. The floor had a near shine to it. The cobwebs had disappeared, and the window glass reflected the light clearly. He didn’t recall ever seeing it do that. “It’s clean!” he exclaimed.

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