The ink black mass at the bottom of the mug is completely solid:
“Has there been anyone in this place since it closed?”
I try to catch Lin’s eye, but she is just sitting there – on the big kitchen desk, pondering unknowns.
“I … have come here sometimes. When I needed to go somewhere quiet. Mostly to get away from my parents.”
Now I don’t try to catch her eye anymore.
“You think it’s creepy,” she says. Not a question.
“Well, no, but you have to admit – coming back to moonlight at your old ‘kindergarten’, turned into ghost house, is, well – “
“Yeah. It is.” Lin lets her fingers strafe gently across the kitchen desk. They go gray immediately, from the thick layer of dust. “Guess I just wanted you to see
“Okay. The, ah, cupboard doors are nice … they almost look handmade – with patterns and all.”
“They are handmade. I believe they are copies of the original cabinet doors from the 1800s. Everything in the mansion has been restored.”
“It wasn’t actually the kitchen, I wanted you to see.” Continue reading