Today's words are: fragile, rampant, tremor For earlier entries in this story.
Julianne sat the heavy bag on the floor of the foyer and took a deep breath. For better or worse...a tremor ran up her spine...she was here for the weekend. The first order of business was to find some place to sleep. Leaving the bag, she climbed the wide staircase that lead to the second floor.
Dust motes played in the light streaming from the open doors on either side of the hallway, and Julianne thanked whatever god was listening that it was a sunny day. She wasn't sure she could have gone through with her plan had the day been dark and dreary.
Surprisingly, the rooms were in pretty good shape for having been unused for so long. A testimony to the strength of the structure of the house, she supposed. She walked the length of the hall, glancing in at all the open doors, before she came to the one door that was closed.
The brass knob turned easily enough and, when the door swung open, Julianne gasped.
She had dreamed about this room as a child and, in that dream, it was a place of wonder and safety. In her waking memory, she had never been to this house-- never even knew about her aunt until the letter had come from the lawyer. Here, though, now was proof that at some point she had known both.
Everything was exactly the same as her dream...the wallpaper of blue flowers, faded now by time; the window seat looking over the garden. In her dream, the garden was a sea of color. Now it was overgrown, but color still peeked from behind the rampant growth of weeds. For the first time since entering the house, Julianne felt at peace and at home. This was where she would stay for the weekend.
Thankful, and surprised, the bed coverings weren't as fragile as she had feared, Julianne stripped them from the bed and carried them downstairs to the laundry room. She retrieved the supplies she had brought with her and returned to the house, determined to do battle against the ages before doing battle with anything supernatural.