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The Painted

Ever since I remember I have always been intrigued by antiquated places. The kind of places that are abandoned with no trace of the human touch yet are crowded by the shadows of the past. The ancientness, the haunting yet captivating stillness that is shrouded in mystery has always called to me. The distant voice that sounds deceptively familiar echoes in the hallways travelling room to room with every intention of being heard and so I followed the echo taking me home. To a place that I have spent decades living in and yet don’t know how to find. It belongs to the deepest and darkest corner of my mind. To a place that is secluded from everyone like a hidden treasure in the heart of a majestic mountain or a lost shrine of an ancient and forgotten God, a place that I cannot enter yet know of its existence or at least I thought I could not until that morning…

The_Last_Phantom · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
36 Chs

Delicious Donuts

Instead of looking up at him immediately I first checked my surroundings 'was this a prank after all?'

I slowly rose up from the ground and looked at him questioningly "sorry?"

"Oh, I meant good luck on your journey, it is a 6-hour long drive from here,

so I hope you don't face any trouble on the way or when you get there" he said, the last part slower and more quietly.

I tried to reassure myself that it was nothing, but I don't know why I thought his words had double meaning.

Still shaking off the weird feeling I shook his hand "thank you sir, for everything" and picked up my purse from the ground.

"You're welcome and don't forget to get the keys from reception on your way out" he said as he returned his attention back to the monitor and started typing again, rather aggressively.

"Will do sir" I nodded as I reached for the door and quietly closed it behind me.

On the way back I noticed someone standing behind the reception desk and passing what seemed like a yellow envelope to Julia and upon my arrival he nodded to her as he sat on a chair and started scrolling through his phone.

"Oh you're back" she smiled softly to acknowledge my arrival and held out a folder of documents in front of me "this is your copy of the contract and these-" she paused as she opened the yellow envelope and brought out a set of old keys "are the keys to your new home" she handed them to me "well congratulations".

"Thank you" I took everything from her and placed the keys in my purse.

In order to not come off as too rude I managed to crack a small smile which probably looked ingenuine anyways.

I was elated internally yet I was never really good with showing emotions.

From a young age I was taught to always be polite and in order to do that one had to learn to hide their feelings and emotions well.

Upon saying our farewells, I exited the building and crossed the street this time more cautiously.

Stopping for a moment to tie my shoelaces I decided to take a deep breath of air which for some reason seemed more fresh than usual and looking up the sky wasn't so gloomy either.

A sweet smell was lingering in the cool morning air and following the smell I reached a small bakery sandwiched between two large buildings, looking very out of place and odd.

Deciding to treat myself to a donut or cupcake instead of saving the money for gas was probably a stupid idea but I convinced myself that this was a very rare occasion and possibly one in a million chance of happening ever again so it was worth it.

Besides not eating for two days in a row should be a good enough excuse anyways.

Entering the building, the smell was now so much stronger and looking at all the delicious treats and desserts made me realize how much I was starving.

An old man wearing a white apron greeted me with a smile standing behind a large glass display of what seemed like endless amounts of sweets.

If there was a heaven then this must be it and he was the guardian angel, protector of all sweets and delicacies in this world.

He absorbed me as I began looking through the glass display seemingly searching for the perfect and most delicious looking breakfast but in reality,

I was scanning the price tags searching for the cheapest thing on the menu which I found at last: cinnamon donuts.

"I'll take six of these please" I pointed as I fished for the coins at the bottom of my purse.

Handing $15 to the man I grabbed the donuts wrapped in paper from his hand and stepped outside into the cold winter air once again.