A Timeless Breeze

A Story by Cypher

A story about a house, and it's history, skipping between present and past.

A cold wind blew through the lifeless halls of the empty house. The house stood on top of a hill overlooking the grassy knolls and farmlands below. Its garden was overgrown and unkempt. Its windows were dark and empty, the only movement in them being the occasional fluttering of a moth eaten curtain blow in a breeze. Cobwebs gathered in all the corners, whilst dust gathered on the sheets covering the furniture. The only sound in the house, asides from the wind, was an eerie ticking noise emanating from a rectangular object in the corner of what was once the parlour. A gust of wind howled down the chimney, causing the sheet to gracefully slip and fall to the ground, revealing the object to be an old grandfather clock. The hands of the clock were stationary, stuck at a quarter past one, and the pendulum was still. Yet the ticking sound carried on. The glass casing the pendulum reflected the desolate room; the only reflections were of the white sheet covered items, and a girl. Yet if you were to turn around and look the room would appear empty. The reflection of the room showed the young girl hiding in the corner.

***

“Tahlia”, a young woman called out the window into garden, “come here please”. The woman leant forward to pull the window shut, pausing to admire the view. From the parlour window you could see the whole countryside. The rolling hills in the distance, the grassy knolls down below, the farms and orchard, as well as the roads which ran throughout; all converging on a town like a plant’s creepers. All lay down in the valley, causing the scenery to seem like a colourful green patchwork quilt with brown and grey stitching. A gardener was busy bent over a rose bush in the garden, pruning down the flowers in preparation for the coming months.

“Coming.” A young girl revealed herself from the lavender bushes, in which she was hiding, and ran down the cobbled garden path. The young woman smiled to herself and pulled the window shut. The young girl ran to the front door, and disappeared into the house.

***

Tangled weeds weaved their way past the stones of the foot path, overgrowing it, making it barely visible. Where there weren't weeds moss covered the stones, mixing brownish red with green. The parlour windows were covered with a thick layer of dust, making it difficult to see outside. In the silence the giggles of a child swept through the dark. In the hall the carpet was also thick with a cover of dust. The stair well banisters had decayed with age, and the oak railing had rotted and fallen in some parts. Several of the wall sconces had rusted with age; some had even detached and fallen from the wall. Those which still had glass on them had faded, their patterns barely visible now. A dusty mirror hung on the wall. Scraps of wall paper had peeled off the wall and hung over the edges of the mirror. The form of an old woman wearing the outfit of a maid, a black dress and a white lacy apron and bonnet to match, appeared in the mirror straightening her bonnet.

***

An old maid walked into the parlour. She saw her mistress stroking her daughters’ hair and smiling.

“You called ma'am?”

“Yes Mildred, I would like some tea”

“Certainly ma'am. Anything else?”

“Yes, could you wheel me closer to the fire.” The maid walked over and grasped the two handles that were producing from the back of the chair, in which her mistress was sitting. Turning the chair around, the maid wheeled it closer to the fire, transporting it to a spot next to an end table. The young woman picked up a copy of ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and sighed. She bent her head back, the shadows under her eyes revealed a hidden exhaustion brought about by an illness she had. “Thank you Mildred. Any word on my husband?” The young woman looked up at the maid and waited for her response.

“I am afraid not ma'am.” The maid responded to her mistresses’ question. “But I am sure that should his return be impeded then he would likely inform us. I feel that he will still be returning as of the set date in two weeks.” The maid curtsied, “will that be all ma'am, or shall I go fetch your tea now?” The young woman shook her head and the maid curtsied again and left the room. She walked down the hall, which was covered in a fine burgundy carpet and red wall paper with a oak lining. She walked into the kitchen, where a man wearing a white cook’s outfit stood chopping vegetables and herbs.

***

The wind whistled through the broken windows of the kitchen. Leaves gathered on the stone floor, and in the corner tangled with the cobwebs which had been spun by spiders over some pots and pans which had been dropped on the floor. Water dripped from the tap into the sink and onto a pile of decomposed and decomposing, as well as fresh, leaves. The shelves in the cabinets had collapsed on each other as the brackets holding them gave way to time and decay. The bench in the centre of the kitchen had also fall on slope, as two of its legs gave way to rot. An unnatural bubbling sound slowly filled the kitchen, originating from a dusty pot on the stove. The pot seemed to light up, and steam appeared to begin rising from it.

***

“Careful young mistress, they will be hot.” The cook warned the young girl as she reached over the edge of the bench to try and grab some fresh biscuits. He gazed into the boiling pot that was on the stove and added more thyme and rosemary. The cook turned around as the girl snatched her hand back. He chuckled, “no young mistress you may have one, I am merely warning you they will be hot.” The young girl smiled and grabbed one of the biscuits. She turned around and walked out of the kitchen, nibbling on her biscuit. She bounced down the hall and then climbed the stairs.

***

The upper hallway was in a similar shape to the one below it. In one of the rooms, on the upper floor, the floor had given way to years of rot and age. Scraps of mouldy carpet hung in the holes gaping maw, moving slightly whenever the wind blew past. A dollhouse sitting in the corner had become a nest of cobwebs and dust. Several mice dashed in and out of the holes in the mattress of a bed resting against the far side of the room. In the room below the dining table had been crushed when the hanging lights chain had detached from the ceiling and fallen through the floor. The sound of a child whispering to herself came from the corner.

***

The girl walked into her room. She bounced across the forget-me-not blue carpet and sat down to finish her biscuit, whilst playing with her dolls. Down in the parlour the grandfather clock struck a quarter past one.