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Saturday, October 27, 2007

The Brownston (fictional story) page 4 of 5

These people when I walked up to them felt like old friends like I had them as friends since childhood but yet I could tell that they didn’t see me the same way but yet they were sitting at what I thought was my favorite hang out place. When I came up to the group of people one of the people could see that I was perplexed and asked what was wrong, before I got the nerve to respond a guy, the guy came out of the front door and walked down the front steps through the people and said he was glad to see that I could make it today so that way we could finalize the purchase of the brownstone which perplexed me even more.

Even though I was perplexed by the fact that I was buying what I remembered to be an abandoned house I felt as though I remembered going through the whole process of buying the house but could not come up with a single specific memory relating to the whole thing. When I was directed to the front door I started walking and felt a foreboding shutter go right through my body making me want to run but I kept walking to do something that I didn’t know that I was doing until that very moment. As the guy opened up the door I felt as if there was nothing there behind me but darkness but when I turned around I could still see the people just sitting there.

As I passed through the doorway I could see a doorway at the far end of the living room a sizable living room with the closest piece of furniture that looked like it was someone’s attempt of combining two different classic pieces of furniture. This piece of furniture looked like it was suppose to be a telephone table but instead of a chair attachment it was a loveseat with a table at either end. As I got a better look around the other pieces of furniture didn’t stand out but what did stand out was the various indistinct paintings and pictures on the wall that went from the front door to the doorway on the other side of the living room. The largest painting was hanging over a mantle piece and the people in it seemed distorted.

The guy directed me to a table and chairs that somehow appeared out of nowhere since I didn’t see them there when I walked in and didn’t see anyone bring them in. As I walked over to the table I noticed that even though the living room was well lit there appeared to be no light fixtures anywhere in the room and noticed that there seemed to be a spot on the floor that seemed strangely out of place for the house but yet it was in a place where I felt there should be a dark hole in the floor but yet it just seemed like a dark spot in the floor. I asked what had happened there and the guy just said that the people who had been living there had problems there.

I started to walk over there and half expected the guy to stop me but he didn’t and it was a solid floor when I stepped on it. When I walked over to the guy who was already sitting down at the table with the paperwork out ready for me to look over and sign. While we were going over the paperwork the guy was telling me that the house came with its own staff for which I could keep or replace if I chose but he thought I should get to know the people who worked there before making my decision. After the paperwork was looked over and signed things slowly started to change as the guy got up and said that he would inform the staff that they had a new owner which struck me as very odd.

As he got up and walked through the doorway opposite the front door, I got up and started walking around looking at the paintings and the pictures and noticed that they were now very distinctive with memories I had from childhood that almost seemed to come to life while looking at the pictures and remembered what had transpired on those days. Some of the pictures were of things that I seem to remember that no one had a camera with them but yet there were pictures on the wall. The paintings including the large one over the mantle piece had come into focus with the one over the mantle piece being myself and looking as if it was an old painting but yet new at the same time.

By the time the guy returned he was somehow different yet was still the same person. He was no longer acting as if he was a realtor but rather a butler who had been working for him for a great many years. It felt comfortable to treat him as an old friend but yet as an employee at the same time. With the slightest of gestures he motioned me to the doorway for which I seemed to remember being darkened and felt as though I wasn’t permitted to go through. I walked up to it, nothing happened and as I walked through it the lights came on and a room full of people yelled out welcome home.

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