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Soul Cake Tuesday Duck didn't apparently have any kind of a home. Nor did Old Man Trouble or the Sandman, as far as she knew.
She walked around the house, which wasn't much larger than a cottage. Definitely. Whoever lived here had no taste at all.at it another way.
She tried to walk towards the nearest one, and gave up after a few wildly teetering steps. Finally she managed to reach it by taking aim and then shutting her eyes.
The door was at one and the same time about normal human size and immensely She found the front door. It was black, with a knocker in the shape of an omega.Susan reached for it, but the door opened by itself.And the hall stretched away in front of her, far bigger than the outside of the house could possibly contain. She could distantly make out a stairway wide enough for the tap‑dancing finale in a musical.There was something else wrong with the perspective. There clearly was a wall a long way off but, at the same time, it looked as though it was painted in the air a mere fifteen feet or so away. It was as if distance was optional.There was a large clock against one wall. Its slow tick filled the immense space.There's a room, she thought. I remember the room of whispers.Doors lined the hall at wide intervals. Or short intervals, if you looked
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