He crouched, aimed a flashlight beam into his basement. The view was milky with cobwebs, so he kicked a hole. That framed the top several rungs of a rope ladder. He studied them for a few seconds, shrugged, and jumped into the black.Thud.He ran his light over the concrete walls, found a few nails where tools used to hang. Now there were shadows of saws, hammers, wrenches. A wooden shelf held some crumbly newspapers. He riffled through. They spewed ticklish dust. "Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-choo!" Between two comics sections somewhere near the base of the pile, he spied the buttocksshaped end of a large, white bone. When he drew the thing out, it was sixteen, seventeen, eighteen inches long."Hmm." He forced one end of the bone into the back pocket of his faded jeans.The floor of the basement was empty, apart from some waterlogged, mass-market paperbacks off in a corner. Softcore porn, detective novels, sci-fi, etc. He razed a garish stack with one kick.Climbing the rope ladder, he tried to imagine his skeleton folding and straightening out inside his skin, but his knowledge of bodies was slight, and his brain such a weakling it couldn't conceptualize a crisp image.The phone rang.
What do You think about Frisk: A Novel (Cooper, Dennis)?
