To get to the magical place in the story, you have to go through the passage. There are entrances everywhere, but you always end by going through the closet hidden in the corner. That takes you to the House.
The House is where They live.
There are two of Them. They make tea and cookies and biscuits, in a warm room with a fireplace and a kettle and two rocking chairs, with a rug on the floor. They're warm and comforting, like their House. They keep the Story.
When I was little, I was afraid of Them. Once I'd gone through the closet, I’d rush downstairs to the basement and the crawlspace and hold my breath as it got smaller and smaller until I finally squeezed through. I never saw the House, or knew the ones who lived there. I was too eager for the Story, much as I dreaded that crawlspace and the way I always felt like I would die before I made it through.
Last night was different. I wound up in the House a new w