I met a nice old couple while walking down an almost abandoned country road. For a minuet I thought they were ghosts considering they were in an old 1950's Chevy truck and wore clothes to match. But then she pulled out a cell. Said her daughter was calling.
The asked me where I was from and I told them. I told them my real name and age. I told them I was homeless. The only thing I didn't tell them was why I was homeless.
They were so kind. Said they couldn't live with themselves if they knew I was out in this cold. So they invited me to stay with them.
At first I was reluctant but then I thought about how cold it's been and I agreed. She got out of the truck and wrapped a shawl around me. It smelled like rose perfume.
I fell in love with the house the moment it came into sight. It was a pretty two story Victorian. White and cranberry color. Pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. The inside was so warm and inviting, decorated like a little country house rather than a luxurious Victorian house.
The room they gave me was their daughters. It's girly but that country kind of girly. With faded pinks, old lace and old stuffed animals.
This morning I walked around the yard. It's odd. The house and yard are surrounded by trees but outside of the yard is all farm land. The only trees around for a mile or so are in this forest of a yard.
I found a little cemetery as I explored. The old man told me it was a family cemetery. The last person to be buried there was his mother in 1968.
It's peaceful here. Almost feels enchanted.
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