Interrogation
Gregor’s house
Loneliness hit Wisp the moment he walked in the door. Stark walls pleaded for color or adornments of any kind—even a smudge of dirt would have done. Three wooden chairs, like stout stickmen, surrounded an oval piece of oak, nudged tightly against its unfinished edge. Wisp wondered where the fourth chair went, or if there had ever been a fourth.
Does he only have two friends?
With each step he took, the walls seemed to close in, pushing him toward one of those three chairs. The candles Gregor lit when they entered cast long shadows across the bare floor. No cushions covered the chairs. No carpet on the floor. No coloring of any kind. It was clean, but doleful. The window had a dull-green drape hung over it to keep curious eyes from looking in, if they could
