No Mean Feat

She moved around doing the chores stoically. The house was haunted by screaming spirits and vile curses, but the master remained unmoved. She could swear that she saw blood dripping from a bag in the safe deposit vault.

“What makes you stay in this eerie place?”

“The ambition of getting my pound of flesh”, she flashed a wicked smile at the master’s portrait in the hall.

It was no mean feat to be Shylock’s mistress.

Six Sentence Stories