This isn't exactly a short story. More like Chapter One to a very big book. This happens to be the shortest chapter, I think. But it's the first. Anyway, tell me what you think.
The Story of a Guitarist
By Morgan Harper
Chapter One
Thickened dark gloss covered the four twenty-foot walls, and the deepest marble God ever made is mounted to the floor. A large stone, placed just over the threshold, has no intentions for life to enter.
I make a pathway around the stone and walked through the large room. I find a corridor lined with wooden doors whos crystal door knobs glisten in the darkness. Though the thought of opening a door is terrifying and quite daring I open one anyway, only to find another room painted beautifully of Autumn colors who give you no choice to fall, no matter how high you are. My boots creak across the aging floor as I drift from room to room. I enter each room hoping to find the brightness and life thats been locked up for one hundred years. Instead I find one hundred rooms with the same creaking floors and eery feelings. Without intentions, they have cursed Life, bounding her with heavy burdens of Darkness.
"Ma'am?"
I smiled down at the realtor and gave her a check.
"Sold."
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