poisonerlady

Alan woke up. As he sat up and pulled the covers off of himself, he couldn’t help but feel that something was strange today, like the world had an unusual tint to it.  With a shrug, he rolled out of bed and shoved his feet into the pair of slippers beside his bed.  They were white, with cross-stitched eyes and floppy rabbit ears. The smell of sizzling bacon and frying eggs wafted up from the kitchen.  Alan hurried down the stairs to the table, where Mother was just setting a plate at his place. As Alan ate, Mother talked to him.  Other Children were coming over today, she said.  The Ea