She moved from room to room in the large, empty house – all the time searching. She didn’t seem to be sure of what it was she was looking for – but she was obviously frantic to find it – riffling through drawers, rummaging in cupboards, pulling stuff off of shelves and checking behind each door and every curtain of all the rooms we entered. She looked distraught and exhausted but refused my help and said it was nothing to do with me.
Eventually we reached the top floor but she still hadn’t found what it was she was looking for. Then, as she was leaving the last of the bedrooms she noticed a small staircase tucked away at the end of the long hallway. We followed it up into what must have been the attic – but it wasn’t dark and damp and hung with cobwebs. It was bright with light and the walls were a brilliant white. And there in the centre of this large room was a small, round table. And on the table stood a bottle of wine the colour of blood and next to that stood a single long stemmed glass. Inscribed upon the bottle were the words: “DRINK ME”.
She stared at the bottle for a long time. Finally, she carefully poured herself a half glass of the dark liquid – and sip by sip she drank it down. The second, fuller glass was drunk more quickly – with relish. As she continued to drink in this way the light slowly faded from the room until it was in complete darkness and I could see her no more.
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