Shirley went down the basement stairs with a tray in her hands. On top of it there was a cute bamboo plate (with a generous serving of the spaghetti), a little bamboo fork, and a bottle of water. At the bottom of the stairs, she balanced the tray on one hand, so that the other could open the door in front of her.
"Richard darling!" she sang. "I've brought your breakfast."
No response from 'Richard darling'.
Shirley manoeuvred her way inside the basement, and shut the door with her foot.
The room had an air of mystery about it, which I think may be attributed to the candlelight. There were two long candlestands at opposite corners giving off an ominous yellow glow.
A man in a nightgown was seated on a small bed, his back leaning against the wall. His legs were crossed, and his hands were placed on his knees, which gave him the appearance of a guru in meditation, especially since he had a shoulder-length mane and abundant facial hair.
If you looked closely, you would see a chain attached to his right ankle, but let's not dwell on that too much.
There was a little cabinet beside the bed, on which lay a heap of books and a pencil. A little further away stood two covered buckets. In front of the bed, there was a little round table.
Shirley carried the tray to this table. "You know, Richard," she said, "You really need to start working on your next project. You aren't living here for free, you know?"
Richard did not respond.
"Here, have some spaghetti to nourish your brain."
Richard did not respond.
Shirley frowned. Why was Richard so awfully quiet? More importantly, why was he staring into space?!
"Richard!"
YOU ARE READING
The Man in the Basement
Short StoryShirley Grant is happier than most writers will ever be, as her two fantasy novels - 'Highborn' and 'Purple Rose' - have gained both critical acclaim and commercial success. But why is there a man in her basement?
