Carnival of Lost Souls

Carnival of Lost Souls — page 7
They walked the long steep path up to the house which loomed atop the scraggly lawn The path was made of slabs of broken slate positioned like stepping-stones across a weedy ocean of grass up to the front door The house resembled a witch’s dollhouse with elaborately carved trim that looked good enough to eat but would surely kill him with one bite Tall pointy spires pierced the still blue sky The house could use a good paint job but it had a lot of windows with tall shutters and a porch surrounded by spindly columns This house is right out of Nathaniel Hawthorne Mildred said craning her neck and shading her eyes against the sun as she squinted up at it Who’s that A famous American author remember that The man who lives here is a professor This could be your big chance of having a real mentor Someone to look up to Mildred squeezed his shoulder Need I remind you you’re running out of chances This could be your last one We got lucky The professor asked for a boy who liked magic and I knew you would be perfect OK so what did this Hawthorne guy write Jack sighed bracing for the inevitable lesson on famously boring writers he couldn’t care less about The Scarlet Letter What’s it about Lust adultery and impure thoughts and poor Hester Prynne had to wear a scarlet letter pinned to her bosom Mildred clutched at the front of her knit cardigan Bosoms Jack wrenched his neck jerking his head toward