The House (Story #1)

I reach the two store house after six hours of travelling. I feel my eyes are tired from all the gazing-into-the-scenery and my legs numb from all the sitting. My one and only suitcase is resting on the sidewalk, and I am resting my head on it, because nobody is answering the door and I don't know anybody to ask anything. So I lay myself on the sidewalk, waiting. The weather is funny, but as far as I remember this place, it has always been like this. Sun is always bright enough to blind the eyes, but there's also this subtle breeze, which takes away any feeling of warmth.
I think about home, and I instantly feel the need to call Anna, and tell her that I am okay, that I miss her, but I feel okay. But the need is instant, and the next thing I know the sun is no longer blinding my eyes. That's when I realize there's a shadow over me, and that there is someone that shadow belongs to. I open my eyes to see an old lady staring in my face, slightly bent over, probably not on purpose but because she is a little humpback. "Hello," she says, "are you Elizabeth?" I answer "Yes" but see that she has already started for the front door and hear her calling "Well then, what are you waiting for? Come in."
I follow her into the old house with my suitcase in my hand. The house smells of lavender and the air is dusty, as it always is where old people live. She leads me upstairs and opens a walnut door, as she announces that this will be my room. "The bathroom at the end of the hall, and you can have a daily shower if you want" she says "but don't you use up all my hot water." I assure her no such thing will happen, and thank her once again for the room. "We'll discuss the rent later on," she says as she goes down the stairs "leave your stuff and come down for lunch."
I put my suitcase down next to the door and take a moment to take in the room. It's a very small room with walls painted pale blue and two small windows with a view of the empty street where I had just been laying. There is a single bed covered with what looks like fresh blue sheets, a small wooden desk with its wooden chair, an empty wardrobe and an old wooden chest in which I later found ancient pictures of what looked like a happy crowded family. I intended to ask the old lady about the pictures, but it was better if I waited for a few weeks to pass until we could actually get on with each other. As I was shuffling through the photograps, she called out again and so I stuck the pictures in the chest and went downstairs.

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