Darkness flows up from the cellar. It’s been over two years since we settled into this house and we still haven’t found the will to install a light, not even one of those touch lights that sticks to the wall. It’s okay though, I know where to reach now.
The good dishes rest on wooden shelves above the basement steps, next to a case of seltzer and our 20 pound bag of rice. The shelves are sturdy, anchored into 19th century brick with a permanency that has outlasted generations. The open shelving makes the dishes easy to find, but offers little protection. If the stairwell door slams too hard a shower of plaster crumbs will rain down. I always wash them before use.
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