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Rated: E · Fiction · Writing · #2151356
Apparently, my writing has almost always tilted toward darkness when it comes to fiction.
The large white mansion loomed before me. Something compelled me to knock on the large door. An elderly woman opened the door. A strong smell of freshly baked cookies or cake emanated from the interior of the house. The woman invited me inside. It was usually against my scruples to go into strange people’s houses, but her amenities caused me to forget them. The smell of the cookies was tantalizing, but the elderly woman served tea instead. She seemed rapacious to get me to drink the tea. I did. I think that may have been a major blunder. Now, as I sit on this chair in the middle of the burning mansion, all I can do is hope the firemen get here in…
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2151356