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“When you’re done there dear, just toss that extra food on the floor and stack your dirty plate on the rack by the shoes.”

Untitled Document. Sia, 25, fashion blogger from Greece. Home Message Archive Theme Message Archive Theme.

Howard just stared back at her.

Untitled Document The year is 1981, right after my birthday party when I turned twenty-eight. It was a wet, cloudy morning when I got a phone call informing me I had been laid off from my job.

She smiles and nods gently, leaning forward, expecting some sort of response. Preferably a confirmation.

“The food…goes on…” Howard just stops.

“On the floor, Dear. Internet download manager with crack by janiall softwares. For The Horde.” She smiles her sweet, sincere, Aunt Carol smile.

Howard continues staring in confusion, “Horde…?”

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“Yes, dear. The Horde. That’s what I said.” She gently wiped her lips with a cloth napkin.

“Don’t listen to that old witch,” Uncle Edward chimes in. “It’s just like having a dog, only cleaner, if I’m honest,” he chuckles. “It’s just a couple million ants that come out at night and eat the leftovers. We keep them fed, they keep our floor clean. I don’t know why people insist on calling it ‘The Horde’.”

After a short pause, Aunt Carol gently lays her hand on Howard’s arm while side-eyeing Edward. Download thegaming. “They’ve only taken a few people in town, and only when they haven’t been fed. We’ll let you sleep on the top bunk in Tommy’s old room if you’d like.”

“And the plates?” Howard looks questioningly at the low wooden rack next to the shoes.

“Same as the floor, of course.” Edward helpfully explains.

128: one bad apple. There’s an awkward pause at the table. No wonder his mother never wanted to visit her sister.

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“And then you wash the plates?”

“Oh, deary no.” Aunt Carol chimes happily. “There’s no need to wash them after The Horde is done. The plates, bowls, silverware, cups; they are all clean enough to eat off.”

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“Eat…” Howard can feel the bile in the back of his throat. There’s a sensation of something crawling on his foot.

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Aunt Carol smiles, nodding gently as she picks up her soup bowl, tilts it to her mouth and slurps out the last few drops of soup.

“Eat up, Deary.” She licks a drop of soup from the corner of her mouth. “I made a special dessert for your visit.”

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