Slowly wandering the streets, I came across a seemingly abandoned house. A wooden hut with a wide open door, as an invitation.
I entered it.
The wood was rotten and cricking under my every step.
Slowly, I found myself in a room full of dusty books on a shelf. I pulled out the lighter in an attempt to identify them.
I found some knocked down candles which I lit. On the floor there was a huge atlas, some detective books and a 1rst World War book, but there was a title that caught my attention “The Egyptian pyramids lost treasure”. I lost track of time in its pages.
I heard a loud noise and looking around I saw the shadow of a hunchback old lady with a cickle in her hands. I startled and hid under the stairs, surrounded by a storm.
When I realized the reason for all this noise, I thought that I was tired and had imagined this entire story. Suddenly, between cricks and throws of stones, the hunchback lady hit my head. I fell down and when I came to, my hands were bound.
The old lady pulled me to the edge of the room, gauzed my head, preventing me from shaking or shouting.
When I was all tied up, she put me in a coffin and I started sweating. My thoughts went into a whirlpool and I started panicking. All around me there was rotten fish left to dry, a shovel, a backpack and a number of tools.
What is gone happen to me?
Be buried alive? I fainted.
When I got my senses I lay surrounded by the sound of sirens and jets of water hit the wood around me.
A fireman pick me up and carry me outside.
The house was in flames .
Once more I feel myself sad and sorrow.
I wondered how many stories will never be told and how many dreams have been reduced to ashes.
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