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Post by Celia on Apr 19, 2006 16:27:32 GMT
You pick your way gingerly through a small path, brushing plants, weeds and flowers off your arms and legs. You feel very closed in, the gravel is crumbling and the branches reach high into the sky, having not been trimmed in years. You reach the front porch. This is a small but cozy front porch consisting of a few steps leading to a white stoned platform. Blazing White bricks build up the magnifiscent old walls while marble pillars hold up the balcony above. From the way the stone walls are almost crumbling, you can tell this is an old townhouse. Recently it became owned by Celia Rosendore, a twenty year old woman. Pretty plants have managed to crawl up around the townhouse, as it has been left alone for so long. A small pond is glisteining in the small patch of grass to your left, where a few lilys and plants seem to be making a symbol...the water element symbol? You approach the oak door and knock...
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