Continued from last week. HERE
The Search
Trying to remember what I knew about St Germaine Like clockwork, my thoughts kicked in He was a wealthy man, into the occult Many thought of him as a second Jesus I hoped to find the secret documents written by him, and the book I searched for They say he is a man who knows everything, who never dies But where are these documents now? Turning back to the altar, I wondered who had placed the camellias I had trampled on. Were they a clue to the keyhole I needed to find? It felt like I held an ancient charm in my hand Mice ran around my feet, mingling with the chaos of this place I wondered where the strong smell of peppermint had come from There stood a young lady in her twenties, slim, some would say fairylike She spoke first, “I thought I was the only one who had dibs on this place, are you looking for something?” For a moment, wondering if she was real, I couldn’t speak The key felt hot in my hand I answered, “I was walking when I found this place.” Having exhausted my search for the keyhole, I thought it lay elsewhere I didn’t want to tell her why I was here With the amount of rubble on the floor I should have heard her walk away It seemed she had vanished, leaving me mulling over her last words “You never know what you could find in a place like this.” With no keyhole, my search goes on, wondering if she was real and what she might know about this place… ©AnitaDawes2022
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