Ficlets

Matt, not Matthew

Matt followed Flora through the foyer, and down so many halls he lost count. It was a silent procession, and he listened to his shoes squeak embarassingly on the marble floors. They passed countless doors, each of them shut. Matt thought privately that this was much like some distant horror movie he had seen. How right he was.
Finally, after traveling up a few flights of stairs, Flora stopped suddenly, as if remembering something, and turned to the door next to her. She reached out her hand, and let it hover above the doorknob for a second, before putting her hand on it and opening the door. She let the door swing open.
“Your room, Matthew.” She breathed.
“You can call me Matt if you like, everyone else does.” He said in attempt to be nice.
Flora blinked at him, as if she didn’t comprehend this. She turned, walked out, and shut the door all in one sharp motion. Matt sat down on the bed and sighed deeply. Only then did he notice that he too had a door, and a terrace on the other side.

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