Corny laughter echoed through the huge museum, a familiar sound to someone who worked there. John looked up from the painting he had been cleaning as the sound traveled through the air and heating ducts.
He laughed, lightening his mood as he worked late to finish the last pieces that were to be placed on display the next morning.
The century old story told of the curator's daughter, Candida, who would run through its corridors daily as her father spent hours at the museum. At age eighteen, Candida celebrated her birthday with a grand party given by her parents. Many of the elite were invited.
That night no one knew exactly what went wrong, but Candida disappeared, never to be seen again. Her father and mother were so distraught they closed the doors to the museum, until the return of their daughter.
As the clock struck midnight, John glanced at the calendar and realized it was Candida's birthday according to the history of the museum. The sound echoed again, louder, and a cold breeze blew past him as he shivered. There, appearing in the room he worked, stood one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Her dark raven hair hung to her waist, and her face was that of an angel.
She smiled and pointed to a door that John had never paid any attention to in all his years working there. Slowly the door opened, and John proceeded to check it out. When he entered, the door slammed shut behind him, as it creaked.
He laughed, lightening his mood as he worked late to finish the last pieces that were to be placed on display the next morning.
The century old story told of the curator's daughter, Candida, who would run through its corridors daily as her father spent hours at the museum. At age eighteen, Candida celebrated her birthday with a grand party given by her parents. Many of the elite were invited.
That night no one knew exactly what went wrong, but Candida disappeared, never to be seen again. Her father and mother were so distraught they closed the doors to the museum, until the return of their daughter.
As the clock struck midnight, John glanced at the calendar and realized it was Candida's birthday according to the history of the museum. The sound echoed again, louder, and a cold breeze blew past him as he shivered. There, appearing in the room he worked, stood one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Her dark raven hair hung to her waist, and her face was that of an angel.
She smiled and pointed to a door that John had never paid any attention to in all his years working there. Slowly the door opened, and John proceeded to check it out. When he entered, the door slammed shut behind him, as it creaked.
1 comment:
When a beautiful woman appears from nowhere and it seems too good to be true, it probably is!
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