Pulling open the door, Erin looked down the rickety wooden steps descending into darkness.
“If I’m going to die somewhere, it will be on these steps,” she said to the air. “It’s like a freaking horror movie.”
She lowered herself to the first step, the wood beneath her sagging under her tiny frame. The next step, and she heard a groan and a crack. She hurried down the rest of the steps to the landing, the gloom accepting her. She flung her hand up, desperately seeking the chain for the light bulb that she knew hung somewhere here. Finally she hit it, grasped, and pulled the chain.
The basement was illuminated, walls and walls of bookcases, stacked with apples. Erin walked forward to the closest, a red delicious, and picked it up. She returned to the landing, clicked off the light, and made her way cautiously back up the steps. Behind her, an apple fell on the floor.