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A town shrouded in isolation and fog, closed in from all sides by waves or by rock. |
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Preface It rained for the whole of the day, from sunrise until sunset, in the coastal town of Four O'clock, WA. It had been the same for most of November - dreary and cold for days at a time. The sun only peeking through on occasion, before reluctantly crawling back into the heavens, back out of sight. The sky kept itself inconspicuous, shrouded always in gray. It blanketed the town below, which was as well guarded on every side by the dark brown rocks. Four O'clock was situated within a series of sharp cliffs, with the only side not being enclosed (the Western), facing an unforgiving sea. There was a sandy beach down there, where local children and surfers could be seen wandering about in their wet-suits in all seasons but Summer. Four O'clock was a small town, which had existed for an indefinite period of time, since the courthouse had flooded and lost their records more than once. Most people guessed it was sometime around 1889, but no one knew for sure. The old papers along with the history they contained had been washed away by the current. Birth records, death records, and all the things in between, had been forever lost to the human memory. The only evidence those people had existed in a time any different than the present moment, or had ever existed at all, had been destroyed. Violet sipped at her morning brew as she stared out the window, hoping for the clouds to clear. She was getting desperate for sunshine and had picked the wrong place for it. It was black coffee, but she enjoyed the bitterness - it helped her to wake up. Her light brown eyes kept staring through the dingy window pane of the rented cabin. She was looking for something in the gloom, just beyond where the grass covered cliff broke into the horizon. Her coffee was starting to grow cold from the neglect. Violet threw the remainder of the unappealing liquid into the sink, before placing the black mug in there as well. She pulled the hem of her robe a little closer in to her chest. The cabin had gotten colder with each day as October began to end and the winter chill of November set in. It smelled different outside too, as though there was the scent of cold mingling with the last warmth of Summer. She took a quick shower, running her hands all through the mess of black hair that went down to her lower back. She had been wanting to have it cut for the last week but had never gotten around to it. Often, Violet felt self-conscious about the way it curled and twisted in over itself, usually forming a tangled mess before the day was out. Thin hands scrubbed thoughtfully around the whole of her body - she stopped at the bulge of her stomach and then again at the shape of her thighs. A sigh, before stepping out of the blessed hot water. For this particular morning, she chose a dark blue dress before catching the morning bus to work. The double-doors had swooshed open, and Matthew had given his usual warm greeting. "Good mornin' Ms. Kolding" Matt's smile always reached up to his eyes, and showed two perfect rows of white teeth. "Good Morning" Violet smiled much less brilliantly. She took her seat in the third row, noticing that Vera Sampson and Addison Joliet were making out in the back row. They were young, not even out of high school yet. The whole town knew, but since they seemed happy enough, had kept the gossip from both of their families. A remarkable feat in the case of a whole community, with little better to do than the day's work and talking about salacious incidents. It could never last... She looked down at her legs, clutching her purse underneath two crossed hands. How long have I been doing the same thing, day in and day out? Nothing here ever seems to change. My weight is getting worse...have I failed? Have I failed...I haven't done anything important. I should have gone to college...Maybe then...? "Hey Violet! This is your stop, right?" Matt called out in his usual, booming voice. He was right, the bus had already creaked to a stop in front of the county funeral home. "Thanks, sorry" She apologized before hurrying out into the mist of early morning. Lordson, David and Sons was the only funeral home for the whole county of Clallam. Not that there were many towns in that county - a grand total of four: Four O'clock, White stream, Westonville, and Montagne. The funeral home was large, as a consequence, and always kept a steady flow of cash while other businesses came and went. In fact, the funeral home was the oldest building in the town, established 1894. Violet sat down in the front parlor at her oak desk, then started her usual work for the day as "secretary to the dead", as her friends liked to call it. She thought it was grim, but "dark places breed dark humor", her father used to say. It seemed true enough. |
| Chapter | 1 | Amanita Muscaria | 3.87k |
| Chapter | 2 | Aconitium Columbiana | 7.30k |
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