handle, holding the door for her, the entrance, stopped and looked dressed in his casual blue jeans into his kind, brown eyes, eyes and flannel shirt, watched the she swore saw into her very soul. woman who had finally gotten to up?” she breathed “What’s him, though perhaps that was with tranquility. look like “You never her real intension. Laurie you’re making a million dollars in would be the first woman brought your head!” to this house, one he and his wife, He laughed a rich, warm basy Carol, had shared till her death sound in the spacious room. He last December from a fast moving tousled her hair. unrelenting cancer. This place was his castle, when he was here; he said. let’s “Okay,” “Okay quiet, secluded in the forested show you the rest of the place.” property he had bought thirty The living room with the years earlier at the beginning of a grandfather with the moon promising railroad career. A and stars in their cycles displayed refuge, sending him off each early on the ornate cabinetry, the wide morning long before sunrise in velvet cushioned sofa with its most cases or in the velvet carved arms, the two deep shimmering darkness of winter to recliners, the deep piled carpet, run the massive powered freight and in all this luxury, on each wall, trains and now the more sedate if large landscapes of mountains, still impressive passenger units, glistening with snow, a copse of would now welcome someone trees covered in ice, shimmering else to it. like glass. Brett watched her take it all Brett moved beside her. in, his eyes drawn to her black Laurie’s face shined with delight. curls, the comfortable way she Soundlessly he left her and slid stood here in her light blue top behind the sofa to a sound system and blue jeans, his heart stirring tucked behind a sliding door that within him. She took his hand and was part of the wall. The muted brought him along with her into
handle, holding the door for her, dressed in his casual blue jeans and flannel shirt, watched the woman who had finally gotten to him, though perhaps that was never her real intension. Laurie would be the first woman brought to this house, one he and his wife, Carol, had shared till her death last December from a fast moving unrelenting cancer. This place was his castle, when he was here; quiet, secluded in the forested property he had bought thirty years earlier at the beginning of a promising railroad career. A refuge, sending him off each early morning long before sunrise in most cases or in the velvet shimmering darkness of winter to run the massive powered freight trains and now the more sedate if still impressive passenger units, would now welcome someone else to it. Brett watched her take it all in, his eyes drawn to her black curls, the comfortable way she stood here in her light blue top and blue jeans, his heart stirring within him. She took his hand and brought him along with her into the entrance, stopped and looked into his kind, brown eyes, eyes she swore saw into her very soul. “What’s up?” she breathed with tranquility. “You look like you’re making a million dollars in your head!” He laughed a rich, warm basy sound in the spacious room. He tousled her hair. “Okay,” he said. “Okay let’s show you the rest of the place.” The living room with the grandfather with the moon and stars in their cycles displayed on the ornate cabinetry, the wide velvet cushioned sofa with its carved arms, the two deep recliners, the deep piled carpet, and in all this luxury, on each wall, large landscapes of mountains, glistening with snow, a copse of trees covered in ice, shimmering like glass. Brett moved beside her. Laurie’s face shined with delight. Soundlessly he left her and slid behind the sofa to a sound system tucked behind a sliding door that was part of the wall. The muted