Welcome to another installment from Bone.
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This week's words are:
Fiona brushed her hair back from her face. With a sigh, she picked up the last bag of trash and looked around the cellar. Even with all the clutter hauled away, the cavernous room was still filthy. It would take a month of scrubbing to get everything clean. But, she was determined to get it done. The thought of having a large storage area after working out of the small storefront she and Bucky were used to was worth any amount of work.
She climbed the steps, forcing one foot in front of another. I swear, these bags gain a pound with each step I take. She didn't even want to know how many large green plastic bags she had toted up these steps today. Enough to nearly fill the dumpster Gary had insisted Golden Waste install right at the back door. She smiled as she thought of the argument that had caused. How tacky it was! But, she hated to admit he was right. After all, it was temporary and it saved umpteen dozen steps. Right now, she guessed convenience won out over aesthetics.
The bag joined its compatriots and she swung the lid closed with a satisfying clang. Mission accomplished, she congratulated herself. A quick sweep to get up the worse of the dirt on the floor and she would call it a day. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle the scrubbing.
As always, she double-checked to make sure the block holding the cellar door was in place before she descended. And, as always, she reminded herself they had to get the lock fixed. The last thing they needed was someone accidentally getting locked down there.
The broom whisked against the cement floor and Fiona lost herself in mentally decorating and stocking the room. A scraping sound from the top of the stairs brought her back to the present. The door slammed shut and high-heeled footsteps hurried across the tile of the kitchen floor.
"Hey!" Fiona dropped the broom and rushed up the steps. Without hope, she twisted the door handle. She beat on the heavy wood with her fists.
Well, she'd just call Gary or Bucky and they would come let her out. Then she would worry about who had locked her in. She had a feeling she already knew though. Visions of Claudia's red stiletto shoes flashed through her mind.
Her cell phone. Her gaze traveled around the cellar before she remembered, with a sinking in the pit of her stomach, she had left it in her jacket pocket. The same jacket that was hanging on the kitchen chair, just five feet away from her. On the other side of the locked door.