The doorbell was taped. He was doubtful if pressing that doorbell would result in a buzz or not so he preferred knocking upon that rusty door. After a couple of knocks, someone’s shadow appeared through the aperture. The door opened and a girl appeared in front of him. She was probably in her late teens but she looked different. She carried a decent and mature expression on her face, quite rare an expectation from other girls of her age. To him she appeared to be an epitome of simplicity, to her he was a question. A young man standing at her door with a bag pack on his shoulders was not what she was used to see often.
Before her inquisitiveness grew, he asked her, “Is this house number B-59?” Continue reading