It’s late. I’m posting this. I don’t even know why. I’m so tired. Lots of homework and I’m not even done. Just gotta laugh it off. Here. Maybe this Ficly will make you laugh. I doubt it, but if it does… well… Go find help.
“Have you had enough, son?”
The man nodded, juice dripping from his chin as he glanced up at the older man. A wrinkled old hand lent itself to the younger gentleman’s shoulder.
“Are you sure you’re full?”
The man smiled with an blank gaze. He turned back to the brown mush in his bowl, the iron spoon listing slightly out of the bowl before clattering to the stained table below. Deep, hollowed knots in the wood of the counter on which the man ate. Sometimes he ate with a utensil, sometimes with his fingers, but always for the past month here, he had eaten twice a day, the same brown salty meal the texture of warm oats and milk.
The rooms of the house were always well lit, those that he had been allowed to explore at any rate, and the carpet clean, the furniture brushed and flowers placed out each week on the small glass coffee table by the couch, but the priestly old figure refused to entertain guests whom were not inclined to spend any more than two weeks. Well, that had been alright for those many who had passed through the door. A long stay was perhaps just what they were looking for.
The juice fell from the younger man’s chin. He had grown fat in the month, and slow. And while everything seemed the same that morning, there was now a change in the older fellow he had not seen since right before the last guest left.
“Well.” The quivering voice said, a kind of desperation in anticipation waiting immediately below the surface. “If you’re quite finished, perhaps it’s time I show you the basement, hurm?”