Burial of hearts the black widow's malice by N Parnham Page A

then sliced a small piece of my pie, placing it on the outer
edge.
    I was not too keen on cooking
food such as bacon, I often managed to get a burn mark, or two from the fat spitting from the pan and today was no exception.
    After the bacon had cooked to a
crunch, I poured the hognobbles onto my plate; the smell of comfort food in the
morning was always a pleasure. I ate them where I had cooked, not needing the
relief of my bed to sit on after a restful night’s sleep.
    Discarding my pots, I went back
up to my room and selected a strong black garment; no frills or any other fancy
embellishments were upon it; it was made for working and that is exactly what I
was planning on doing today.
    I had a short bath; the time was
ticking down and I needed to ensure I was ready and dressed for maid service.
    The clothing was a little on the
tight side, but I kept it on none the less, hoping that through all the work I
was to do today it may perhaps stretch and loosen the material, even if only by
a morsel.
    I brushed my hair aback, snapping
off any folded hairs in the process. Today I was going to have a professional
decorum about me, even if I had to snap off every individual hair upon my body.
    It was sunrise; I made my way
outside; Camerine was walking over, with seeing me a smile crossed his face; I
had not let him down.
    “Good morning Avis, glad to see
you are awake. Now, I will take you to Mr Bullwort’s house, I have already
delivered the tools you may need. Remember to greet him with a smiling face and always be polite”.
    Walking through the city, we
eventually reached the area reserved solely for upper class citizens.
The paths here were patterned; each stone perfectly lining up with the next;
the border of the paths partook in a medley of different mosaics, made by an
artist of the highest stature. There were well cared for plants outside each of
the households; a few persons had even brought their gardeners out in force at
this early hour. The houses themselves were unlike that of the central city;
care had gone into the construction; most made from limestone that seemed to
radiate extravagance in the morning sunrise. The windows were framed with dark
oak wood, free from any unwelcome dust, or the webs of spiders.
    Mr Bullwort’s house was further
up the snaking path. It was lavishly decorated. The limestone was broken up by
solid oak beams; the door to the house was rounded atop with a small stain
glass window for decoration. I walked up through the stately gates and looked
at the garden, which had two statues of eagles at either side; the plinths of
which were made of granite. A few lanterns were hanging firmly from the canopy
above, ready to be lit as the night sky drew in.
    I knocked upon the door, three
knocks only so as not to seem impatient to the Mr Bullwort. He opened the door;
he was a plump man; some of the buttons on his shirt had popped open revealing a
hairy gut. Humorously he seemed to be wearing a toupée; as he moved it began to
slip in whichever way he leant.
    “You must be the new maid? ”.
    “Yes Mr Bullwort, that I am; how
may today I help you with your gracious household? ”.
    “ Please , call me Tenro; I
am not interested in all that class nonsense; and whom may you be? ”.
    “I am
Avis; glad to hear you are kind hearted, Mr… sorry, Tenro”.
    “Thank
you; I am merely a fair person; I was once poor and I worked my way up to what
I am now. I believe anyone can become anything they like, if they put in
enough work… and know the right people of course . So Avis, today I will
just need you to have a quick clean of my home; the wife, or dragon as I
liked to call her recently passed away, leaving me with these new errands.
Everything you need is in the storage room to the rear; if you need me I will
be eating some apple pie that I … had to make”.
     Entering
his home, I walked alongside an outstanding stairwell, the railings of which
were a darkened mahogany, with outlines of lions