Hilda

I watched the old woman clean with a stupid look on my face. She eventually turned to me with a kind smile. "I'm sorry, dear. Is there something wrong?" "Have we met?" I ask. She giggles. "Not officially." "Not officially?" The old woman shakes her head and puts out her hand. "You're right. I'm being rude. My name's Hilda." I'm still confused, but I shake her hand anyways. "Hi Hilda. I'm -" "Yes, I know. You're often referred to as Sparky Boy." "You've heard of me?" Hilda giggles again. "You could say that. You've been staying here long enough." A lightbulb finally clicks. "So, this is your house?" "It's my Inn, yes." I rummage through my pockets. "I don't have much on me." I say. "That's fine. I couldn't ask for your money anyways." "I have to give you something." I insist. Hilda shakes her head. "I couldn't. What kind of hostess would I be then?" "A profitable one." Hilda smiles. "Tell you what, if it is eating you up that bad then you can tell me a story. That's what I sometimes ask my weary travelers." "I can do that. How about we all tell you a story together?Have you met everyone else yet? I mean officially." Hilda shakes her head. "Perfect. They're across the hall and we can all meet and share our story."