We Have Always Lived in the Castle

by Shirley Jackson

“I’m always so happy when you come home from the village,” Constance said; she stopped to look and smile at me. “Partly because you bring home food, of course. But partly because I miss you.”

“They were almost invariably civil to one another, Niece, if that is what you mean by not quarrelling; a most unsatisfactory example for the rest of us. My wife and I preferred to shout.”

We relied upon Constance for various small delicacies which only she could provide; I am of course not referring to arsenic.”

MELODY GLOUCESTER PEGASUS,

“I shall commence, I think, with a slight exaggeration and go on from there into an outright lie. Constance, my dear?” “Yes, Uncle Julian?” “I am going to say that my wife was beautiful.”

“I’m not afraid to eat anything Constance cooks,” Charles said. “Really?” said Uncle Julian. “I congratulate you. I was referring to the effect a weighty meal like pancakes is apt to have on a delicate stomach. I suppose your reference was to arsenic.”

I was wondering about my eyes; one of my eyes—the left—saw everything golden and yellow and orange, and the other eye saw shades of blue and grey and green; perhaps one eye was for daylight and the other was for night. If everyone in the world saw different colors from different eyes there might be a great many new colors still to be invented.