13
‘I’ve found a skeleton,’ I said aloud. The words burst from my lips, quite loud; the product of pure surprise. Of all the things I might have expected to find in here, contorted skeletal remains definitely weren’t it.
The poor soul had not enjoyed a peaceful death. That much seemed clear from the pose: twisted as though in agony, mouth agape. I could tell little else: clothes and flesh alike were long decayed, leaving only bones and dust.
I backed away, returning to the table.
The house was curiously intact, considering the state of its occupant. A pottery plate and cup stood atop the table; nothing valuable in either, but still odd. Possessions tend to be passed on when their owner dies, and considering the antiquity of this cottage and its contents, they most certainly would have
