An old crone sat in front of a round table in a small dark room. She gazes at you with tender eyes forged in loneliness.
"Welcome, dear reader. Please have a seat." skeletal fingers point at a simple wooden chair that had manifested out of nowhere. "Would you like some coffee or maybe something sweet?" The small wrinkles around her mouth morph into a weak smile.
She waits for you to take it all in. The room expands with the table at the center, and the silence only gives way to a soft hum from the old crone.
"I am happy you are here or to see you at all." serenity blessed her tone as her gaze moved from you to the small cup of coffee she held close to her heart. "The narrator is doing what he can today. To be honest I did not think this day would come." I stop and look at her. She is so frail that a single touch might shatter her. "Now is not the time for that narrator, I am here now and we have a reader to attend." ... the old crone stares back up at you, her pupils reflecting the flickering candles that light up the walls. "My name is Dina. It's a pleasure to meet you, although I must apologize for not meeting you in my own story" she sips a tiny bit of coffee, spring crosses her face. The room expands again, pushing away the darkness that encircles us.
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"Dear reader, what are you looking for within these pages? What brings you to this table?" she asks a question she knows she will never hear the answer to. "I may appear old but older is my creator and older might be you compared to me." We both chuckle, finding this amusing "But I would still like to one day know your answer..." a pair of buttery biscuits appear in front of us along with three empty cups whose content has yet to be determined. "I said before you can have anything you want here but if I may, I recommend biscuits with honey. Those are my favorite." The scent of butter from across the table melted into the dark before being replaced by the sweet smell of golden honey covering the biscuits. "Enjoy, dear reader." said Dina as her soft smile returned accompanied by the sting of loneliness.
"This is the first time... I had a guest over." her words lost to the sounds of flickering candles and the enjoyment of our cups filled with our desires.
We are guests in her home. A dark room in the far corners of my mind. Here we sat as the biscuits slowly vanished with each bite. Her tired eyes filled to the brim with the same wonder a child would have on their birthday.
"Thank you for spending time with me, dear reader." The shadows flickered as the light seemed to dim. "May we meet again in my own story." shadowy fingers snuffed the candles out.
"I hope." said Dina with a pinch of pain as the darkness swallowed the room.