Enter River

This seems to be the case for my friend, River. That’s not her real name, but ever since she learned of her past, she won’t respond to anything but her “great-great-grandmother’s magical name.” She does however own a condo, and, on top of that, she lets me stay there. She pays the bills by reading people’s fortunes and such while I dress up as a priest and bless people’s houses, for a fee of course.
When I arrived at River’s place, I noticed that there was no light coming from the inside, but that is not what worried me. The part that did have me worried is that I smelled smoke coming from underneath the door. Now, fortunately for me(and River) she never locks her door. She isn’t forgetful, but she just doesn’t believe in locked doors. I burst into the small condo rather quickly to find River kneeing on the floor over a map with two freshly extinguished candles. A look of frustration crossed her face, which seems to be towards the cause of death to her two candles.

This story has no comments.