Bread

The baker offers us all a loaf of bread. She has no butter, but I can hardly complain. This will be my first meal (if you can call it that) in quite some time. I am so hungry that any manners I have are all bur forgotten at this point. I tore at the bread with my claw - like hands. A moment of insecurity hit my gut when I realized I gave into an animalistic nature. Then I looked around, only to find that no eyes were on me. No one cared. They were all too busy eating. I rested my elbows on the kitchen table. It wobbled slightly. I glanced down to find several books carefully placed under the leg. The baker noticed me staring at the books. "There was an incident." She says, simply. I decided to leave it at that. Why press the matter any further? "Do you know how long you will all be staying here?" She asks. "Until your husband tells us to leave." Olivia replies. "Oh dear. That could be some time." She says. "If it is a problem we can go." Peter responds. "No, it's no problem. I'm just not used to hosting. Especially so many people." Peter looks up from his bread. He gives the baker a warm smile. "We do not wish to be entertained. All we desire at this moment is a safe place." The baker nods her head. "This is a safe place." "Is it the safest place?" He asks. She nods again. "The safest place."