House on Berwyn Place, Downstairs Apartment
(Remembering Mary Ellen Townsend Harris, 1911-2016)
The charm of Mary and Hugh’s Walnut Hills “castle” crumbled within a few weeks.
It happened on a Saturday when Mary was dusting furniture in the living room. From the corner of her eye she caught a sudden blur of movement on the floor. She stopped, stood still, then ventured a glance over her shoulder.
She waited a minute, then shrugged and resumed her dusting. Must have been my imagination. Again she caught a sense of movement on the floor. She turned quickly, then screamed.
“Eeeek! Hubert…there’s a creature in here. Help!”
Hugh had been drying breakfast dishes in the kitchen and came quickly. “What is it, Mary?”
“There!” She pointed in the direction of the wall and suddenly another little black figure darted, then stopped with its long feelers exploring its surroundings. Hugh grabbed a…
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