THE VILLAGE ENIGMA
The property lay empty and still.
Nothing moved and even the air was static. Indeed time stood still within the centuries old walls, as if removed from the events unfolding without the sanctuary of its solid structure. The old wooden stairs were silent as were the steep concrete steps to the soulless cellar.
However, this had not always been the case, and in the distant past the small cottage had reverberated to the sound of its inhabitants. Both happy times and sad had been witnessed by the cold white walls. Generations of the eternal cycle of life and death had been encountered by the structure, and at times the stench of humanity would have overpowered all but the those with the weakest sense of smell, as the by-product's of infant life and the detriment of old age filled the communal air.
Now though, all was silent, and the past did not wish to reveal itself, as the property remained sealed from the village and external world. Monarchs had come and gone, neighbours born and buried, church services commemorating all aspects of life conducted by a succession of Rectors and Vicars and the surrounding fields continued the rotation of crops and live stock, with all oblivious to the small cold cottage at the edge of their community.
The front door was an uncompromising wooden portal with a simple locking mechanism, as was the back door. A cellar was accessed via a door under the stairs.
Steep steps cut from the chalk bedrock lead down to a cramped airless vestibule where an uncovered floor supported old furniture and tools. A wooden handled scythe was propped against the far wall, and various rusting gardening implements looked old and weathered. Upon the wall however was a pristine clock, set in ivory and astonishingly still keeping the correct time.
In a cluttered corner, partially obscured by an old rusting mangle, a small wooden box gathering thick dust lay unnoticed by all and sundry. Its locking mechanism was robust and intact, but unsurprisingly the key was absent. However, above the cellar was the small sitting room, unpretentiously decorated in a rustic fashion and devoid of any obvious sophistication or wealth. Nevertheless, hanging on the party wall was a rusty set of keys, that were believed by most to be no more than an attempt to create an antique effect for the wall.
To be continued.......
