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TITLE: Mia-Chapter 3
By
01/17/09
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This chapter feel is little...dorky....i don't know...this chapter ends good...and i think starts out good too, but the middle stuff seams a bit...on the random side, i think.
To be honest, I finished the entire novel last Thursday, and i don't feel like working on Mia very much anymore. Im ready to begin my new story! I'm becoming aware that this story was very slowly developed in the beginning. I might, or might not post up the rest of the story b/c im afraid too many people will think it's...boring. Mia's story IS there, but she's a wanderer, that is apart of her life, her story, who she is. She searching out her answers. Anyway, for those who asked for it and wanted it: Chapter 3.
thanks everyone!
please point out any mistakes and i'll gladly correct them!
Chapter 3
Autumn

Another friend, another door; another foe, another wall.

~Chinese Proverb

The rooms where quiet, the walls rose high into the cream colored ceilings. The wooden floors moaned like any other old home would, a couch covered by an old white sheet and dust, sat in the empty room in a corner by a low hearth. Hesitant, Mia pulled of the sheet, lifting dust into the air, causing her nose to run and her eyes to brim full with water. Sneezing constantly, Mia opened up her book bag and hoisted herself onto the couch. Pulling out her hoodie, she covered herself, and fell asleep.
Mia, mostly an early riser, woke to hearing the birds and when she neatly packed her things, and put back the dusty sheet, she left the quiet house. Mia looked about the garden, picking off a red rose and smelling its fragrance, Mia had already made a metal decision that she would come back to the house.
Right before she opened the gate, she heard the rumble of a car pulling up in front of the house. A man, finely dressed in a black suit accompanied by a white and yellow striped tie, came around and opened the door. Emerging from behind the black door of the navy blue Camry, was an old woman, she had on a peach scarf, light pink pants, and a torques blue shirt with matching blue ear rings, with a soft pink pearl necklace. Mia watched as the very proper-and elegant-people stood side by side for a moment, both their heads lifted up towards the house.
“Dose the house really have two-thousand square feet?”
“Approximately,” the butler stood broadly while rocking on his toes, hands firmly gripped in each palm. He was a short, plump, red-faced man with chubby fingers and had a long slender, pointed noise.
“It seams a bit on the small side, don’t you think.” The woman spoke out load. Mia watched as the butler opened his mouth to reply, but the old woman spoke before him. “Well, no time to dilly-dally, lets go and look around,” she said, marveling at the crumbling home. She was short, shorter than the butler, and looked to be about in her early sixties. Mia’s heart leapt inside her chest, she felt the blood rush through her body as they strode closer to the gate; Mia, on the inside felt her entire body flushed with the galvanizing adrenaline, while her outside remained frozen still. The old woman, looked at the strange dirty girl with a bewildered expression paused over her face. The butler merely placed his red chubby hands around his back calmly, as if he’d done more than a thousand times.
Mia tensed, she felt an embarrassing sickness crawling inside her stomach, redness burning the outside of her cheeks; she turned and ran.
“You! Stop! You, girl! Stop!” Mia heard the shaky cries of the elderly woman, for a moment, Mia wondered if she was going to chase her. And for that moment, she did, but not for long. Jumping over branches and stone statues, Mia felt her feet beneath her fly. So she let them soar, long and far. Panting, she eventually came to a stop, feeling a pulsating tingle in her left leg; Mia glanced down to see a scarlet river of blood running down her calf muscle.
“Great,” she mumbled to herself. Using her hand, Mia wiped the blood that continuously ran down her leg. Mia pulled a leaf from a nearby oak tree, pressing the green leaf against cut that refused to clot. Sighing, she applied more pressure, counting to 20…25…30…40…50…53. Pulling the leaf off, checking to see if the blood had stopped, she winced as another oozed of blood steamed down. Cringing, she hobbled awkwardly next to the base of an old tree. A cherry red Corvette busily sped off in hurry down the street called Hamlet. Mia looked up the sun setting sky, watching as the peach and tangerine colors of the soft clouds embraced the nightfall sunlight. Slowly being enveloped by the twilight evening, and the crescent moon would emerge, and Mia would be all alone, once again. Denver felt like an unbearable quixotic that not even Mia wanted to go up against.


Three days went by and Mia wondered about the ancient homes and the historic museums and their secret items that held so many details and seen more days in lifetime that Mia would ever see in her own life. She wondered why the artifacts in the museums had lasted so long. She thought about the people, and what they might look like, there hands that crafted so many details on a piece of art. It made her wonder if they would one day just fall apart, or would the handy-man that accidentally dropped the shipping box; would he be fired? Or would the art thank him, that now it could perish without so many hundreds of thousands of pairs of eyes staring at them each and everyday?
Standing near the old house, Mia felt her stomach flip. A moving van, the Camry, a Convertible, and truck all pulled up, hauling in chairs and tables, a black-ivory piano, beds, blankets, chest, desks, and many other household items that Mia hadn’t seen in a long time. She sat on the curb all day long, curiously watching moving men lift and take things in. The stout butler ordered men around, telling them what to do and where to put things, Mia waited patiently. She sat on the curb further down the street not far from the house. And by the end of the day, Mia saw the old lady again. She smiled at the home, and hugged the butler, which made him grin, and she smiled big, looking up at the house cheerfully. Mia stood, and neared the house, wanting to hear what they where saying.
The old woman clasped her hands together and laughed, “Oh this home needs so much work! I can’t wait until we can get the fountain working, and the garden! My goodness what job!” Mia crouched behind a rose bush, hoping it was enough to conceal her from being seen. The old woman continued to babble on and on about how excited she was.
“…and how to plan to manage all your time,” The butler replied calmly, somewhat bored with the matter.
The woman glanced up at the plump butler. “I always manage,” she said as a matter-of-fact.
“I’m sure you can,” he said. “You always do.”
“I know, anyway, what do you suppose we do for the first floor?”
“How should I know,” he said obviously becoming irritated. “It’s your house, not mine.”
“Never mind you,”
“What are you planning on doing with bakery and the restaurant? You can’t forget about it, you know,” he pleaded with the old woman to reconsider.
“Yes, I know, I haven’t forgotten,” she said blandly, almost shaking him off.
“Then how are you planning on doing everything with an entire new home to keep up on? With all the side projects…and the money…” his voice trailed off.
“Hush, she said firmly. He bit his lip in annoyance and rolled his eyes and spoke up again.
“But, Caroline? What about the bakery, and the restaurant?” he pressed the issue again, this time he seamed ready to support his reason.
“The Flour House Bakery will be fine,” she said brushing him off again.
‘A bakery,’ Mia perked up at the thought and her stomach growled anxiously at the sound of eating. Only for a minute did she perked up, remembering regretfully that she had spent all her money to go to the museum. She quietly back up from the rose bush and escaped from the cheery old woman and the butler’s conversation. Making her way down the street, Mia looked back at the two people who walked inside there new home. Mia wished she could join them, to be apart of a family again; but Mia knew that idea was obsolete.

Two days later, Mia noticed the yellow and green leaves that freshly decorated the trees, colors merging together to create a clash, some more yellow, others orange, and some a lime-green yellow, slowly browning at the ends. The morning air was damp, dewy, and crisp with sent of autumn lingering. Mia loved fall, and more and more as the days grew shorter, she grew to love the historic town. Hollendale Park; where she slept in the rainbow tubes, the old homes, the only library which was also historic both inside and out. Even the books where old, most of them had hard brown and black spines and rough linen covers beat up with brown pages that smelt old and musty. It was an awful sent, but Mia took in all the smells of the library, and she loved it anyway. She had sped through several books, reading all day long until the librarians had to ask her to leave.
One of the librarians, named August Green, had helped Mia learn and understand the Dui Decimal system and how the was library was organized. August quickly became Mia’s friend. Mia loved August; there was kindness in which she treated Mia with, as if she was accepting Mia as a friend and both a child at the same time. She had a smile that made Mia feel warm inside, her voice was soft, low, and soothing to the frightened girl. August was from New Jersey, she often told Mia that her father owned an Italian restaurant called Ladies and Tulips. She described to Mia that every table inside had a red, pink, red, or orange tulip placed inside a crystal vase, and on special occasions there would sometimes be white and purple.
“If you ever go to New Jersey, you should head to Corbin City, and go right to Ladies and Tulips,” she smiled at Mia proudly.
“I will if I ever go New Jersey,” Mia said, promising to herself that one day she’d go and eat at Ladies and Tulips.
August liked the color red, and wore as much of it as possible. Mia really didn’t like the color red, but she liked the red nail polish she that she wore everyday to work. She thought that August was very unique. She encouraged children to stay in school, read, and try everything in there power to reach there goals. She enjoyed talking to people, no matter what age. Mia was searching for that kind of respect, a friend that just wanted to be a friend. Mia was happy when she talked to August, and even though she always listened cared for Mia’s opinions, Mia feared that school was going to be a problem between them. August, Mia knew that if she found out about her, she would try to get her into a school, but Mia couldn’t manage school when she couldn’t even buy her own pencil.
Mia stood outside the red brick building, yellow and amber and brown colored leaves twirling about in the autumn wind dancing at her feet, Mia knew it in her heart that one day, she could not return to the library, that should could not return to see her friend. And as Mia stood outside the old brick library on the quiet street, Mia felt her throat throb, because she knew August and her could no longer be friends.
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