3 - Dreary Days

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[Present].

Adolpha had sighed, standing in front of that marvellous cabin inn, disappointed and a bit surprised. Not thinking, she called out, "...Hello? Danica? Quince?" And a few by-passers walking the street gave her a strange look with their eyebrows raised. She shook her head, smiling gently at them, and then walking to her mule where he was still hitched in front of the inn. Her friends would have eagerly gone to their families and homes by then. The ground beneath Adolpha's mule was trampled with well-pathed dirt, grass growing up in spotty patches here and there. The scent of late summer filled the moving air, with pollens and nectars drifting in on the cool early morning breeze.

From there, Adolpha had mounted her mule and jogged with him back to her home, which was completely on the other side of the town. It was a bit of a walk, and she was met with shocked expressions, excited gestures, waves and "hello!"s. She didn't know what to think nor what to feel; she was a bit confused, and most of all, exhausted from the social interactions; exhausted from the judgement, the wary glances and gossip behind raised hands.

The first thing Adolpha had done after getting back on that mule was reunite with her daughter. Whenever she left those two years prior, May had still lived with her in that humble home on the sunny terrace. So, the first place that Adolpha went to was her home.

It was just as she had left it. Granted, everything was layered with dust, but otherwise, everything was the same. Exactly the same. The books scattered along her bedroom floor were still scattered; the wax candles lit in the dining hall were burnt out and melted flat, having never been put out; her chair was still pulled out from the dining table, her pot still on the stove in the kitchen, empty. The scene felt surreal as she walked into the familiar home, gently touching the wood of the dining table in the main quarters, which stood close to the front door. It was certainly a beautiful caramel colour, even now, layered with dust. She put her freckled fingers to it, and they picked up the dust along their tips, making lines in it across the table like snow.

The abode was dark, no candles being lit, and was only lightened by the streaks of sunlight pouring in from the front two windows. Still, shadows casted along the plank floor from couches, tables, and chairs were long and dark. She could see the flurries of upturned dust floating as tiny white specks in the golden beams of light.

But more than the creeping morning shadows and the lingering grey dust was the eeriness of large, empty silence. Every footstep across hardwood floor clicked and creaked, echoing dully in the cavernous living room. Every touch to the table squeaked lightly like a pin drop in a large silent auditorium. It was clear: nobody had lived here for two years, not even May.

Adolpha had to beg the question, then, of where she could have possibly been; where was she living, and who was she with? A sinking feeling in her chest, a pang of something breathtaking like fear, and she had left her home in such a rush that the door had not quite been shut all of the way. Luckily, River's Bed was known for its good, peaceful people, and it was highly unlikely that anybody would be breaking in to her old house anytime soon.

On fast legs, Adolpha walked down the terrace on a path of large, flat stones turned into a beautiful, semi-natural staircase, tall wildflowers and cattails surrounding them, and moss growing along them. Her red fabric jacket was more of a cloak, going down past her knees and flying behind her like one as she jogged. Her hair was curled and buoyant, bouncing with her every step, gleaming orange under the sun. In the distance, clouds began to roll, at first puffy and white like cotton, but progressively darkening the farther out that they got.

At the bottom of the grassy slope was her mule, hitched to a bar at the base of the terraformed staircase. He huffed at her eagerness, pawing the dirt with a wide brown hoof.

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