An adventure awaits.

Aunt Sarah’s abode, as beautiful as a postcard cottage, had always fascinated Paul. Adventures, as abundant as apples at a harvest festival, had created an affection that had lasted permanently. Tears cascaded unabated as Paul elevated an antique vase, Aunt Sarah’s favourite, Paul recalled affectionately. That accident had always plagued Paul’s deliberations, Aunt Sarah had always taken care, what had caused that fatal lapse that fateful day, had Aunt Sarah really lacked concentration as was alleged? Paul glanced at a calendar, February, almost a year had passed already. Paul had anticipated answers, perhaps a reason, after all Sarah had always maintained a diary, although Paul’s search hadn’t revealed any.

Paul placed Aunt Sarah favoured vase back atop a large and vulgar pedestal, a strange addition atop a mantelpiece that characterized elegance. Sarah always had great taste and, although Paul wasn’t an antiques professional, was certain Sarah hadn’t wanted that pedestal as an antique alone.

A small dial, barely noticeable amid dreadful images displaying battles and slaughter, caught Paul’s attention. An external examination finally revealed a compartment, concealed as an ornate plaque containing an ancient parchment page, displaying a barely readable map. What adjoined a map and a dead aunt? Paul’s innate adventurous streak cast aside any caution.

A painting, another late addition, dominated a large wall, catching Paul’s attention. A small search revealed a passageway, a passage also faintly displayed across a fragile parchment page. Paul’s heart raced. Answers and adventure awaited, Paul reasoned, taking a pace forward. An adventure that was wanting a lamp, Paul belatedly realized, back tracking a small way.


Lamp finally located and ablaze, Paul began again. Aunt Sarah had certainly concealed a great deal, Paul acknowledged walking along a meandering pathway. All Paul’s explorations as an infant had failed Paul realized. A grand adventure had lay practically beneath Paul’s nasal hairs and infant Paul had remained totally unaware.

Paul’s map lead across an area far greater than Aunt Sarah’s abode allowed. Strangely Paul was calm. An idea had started formulating, demanding substantiation. A cavern gaped ahead, several paths lead away Paul saw.

“At last, a familiar face.” A woman said, startling Paul.

“Aunt Sarah?” Paul asked, uncertainly.

“Aye, Paul.” Sarah answered.

“What’s happening? What…” Paul paused at an abrupt hand signal.

“Travel a path that contains danger, a path that wasn’t always that way.” Sarah said, cryptically.

“Sarah, about that accident at Audley Avenue last March, was that real? Was anything?”

“Leave, danger approaches.” Sarah said, fear reverberated around Paul alongside Sarah’s verbal commands.

Paul ceased talking and ran. ‘Have faith.’ Paul heard internally. All Paul had wanted was answers; all Paul had was a headache, a talkative dead aunt, a map and apparently a potential danger. Perhaps that pedestal hadn’t meant anything after all, maybe Paul had finally cracked. A shadow blade slashed across Paul’s throat. Death was instantaneous.

***** ***** ******

Sarah jarred awake. What a nightmare, Sarah contemplated, as a glance at a digital display revealed that Sarah was late. “A fatal accident at Audley Avenue has caused delays across…” A radio announcer was saying.


Sarah stared at a calendar, early March. Had that nightmare really happened? Perhaps an alternate reality? Sarah, panicking, called Paul, thankful at hearing an answer.

“Aunt Sarah?” Paul asked, clearly equally as grateful. “That accident…” Paul paused, realizing that all that had changed. That strange, and apparently shared, dream meant that Sarah was safe.

“Take a vacation Paul, today.” Sarah said after a momentary pause, gazing at a particularly awful pedestal that had arrived yesterday. “And have faith.”

Word count: approx. 600