.. 20 feet below. Wendy was looking down at the puddle.The puddle was moving. Here and there were bone piles of creatures she'd only imagined in dream... ... the nightmare in the closet kind of dreams. The puddle flowed up to a pile ... enveloped it and sloshed back to the center of the room.The bones were gone.The puddle had ripples... 'crunch crunch. bubble hiss. BELCH!'From a hole in the chamber ceiling, a 'rattle rattle crash thump!', a fresh pile of bones on the rock floor. These had scraps. He always had a cigarette going, the red pack of Pall Malls visible in the pocket of just about any shirt he wore. Dad drove a truck for a local company, so he was home nights. To listen to him talk, though, you'd think he was on the road for weeks at a time. You'd also think he was still in Oklahoma to hear to country twang to his voice.Mom, on the other hand could probably fit into her high school cheerleader's costume, if she'd ever gone along with that nonsense. Her opinion of cheerleaders. More

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