Agatha

I devour the cold crumpets that lay on my marble plate and chew down. Father had died last night. Yet, here we are, gathering at the table to eat breakfast, as if nothing occured. Clarence chuckles darkly, and i roll my eyes. He asks me to pass him the salt, and i toss it to him. His dog, Brutus, snaps and gnarls from underneath. I pull my shawl further upon me for warmth and comfort. I shuffle my feet away and eat uncomfortably and quickly, in desperacy to be out of Clarence's presence.