"I'm home", a loud voice echoed through the house. A tall old man entered the room. "And who's this?" he asked, taking of a fake nose.
"He can't speak, so I call him Storm," Roxanne cheerfully greeted the man with the hawk-like eyes.
"Storm, ehm? You look rather familiar... Have we met before?"
"The old man indeed looks familiar. Now that you mention: this whole room looks familiar." Flashbacks suddenly crossed the boy's mind. Storm had been here before. He was accompagnied by someone... "Who was I with?" His head hurt trying to remember. It felt like his memories about this place were blocked.
Storm wasn't a guy who forgot things. He remembered the tiniest details. He easily recited conversations happening five years ago. But all he could recall of his previous visit was a faceless shadow and a blurry recollection of a picture in that drawer over there.
"Oh well," the old man said not waiting for an answer. He had put on a short black wig and changed his clothes into something more classy. "I'm off to see Mrs. De Winter. I'll be late for dinner."
The guy's footsteps disappeared into the night.
(image found at: www.printerest.com)
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