South Park (Foggy World)
Jun. 10th, 2010 09:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scribble_puppetThe river murmurs murkily to her right. She's sure the place is herding her- Riverside was the only open street, everything else being blocked by pits or bars. The brick and concrete façades give way to greenery and quaint cottages set back from the road, distinguished by falling wooden signs declaring them hotels and bed-and-breakfasts.
Her progress stops at a crumbled overpass, the river gurgling mockingly beneath. With a heavy sigh, Amber turns back. Map. Some way around.
...cutting through a yard might be an option.
She slips through a sagging gate, with a rotting, peeling sign declaring the place to be "Hannah's Bed and Breakfast." The front yard is overgrown, choked with weeds, fallen trees, and chunks of masonry to the point of impassibility. Amber turns and eyes the building itself, a squatting thing with moldy siding and splintered gingerbread details.
The wooden steps complain but hold her weight as she ascends the porch. Dead plants sit in crumbling urns. An old porch swing sways pathetically, one chain snapped. A faded pamphlet lies in front of it. Amber's passing glance becomes a double-take when she sees the heading, and she kneels to read it.
She peels it off the floor and pockets it, then turns to the front door.
Her progress stops at a crumbled overpass, the river gurgling mockingly beneath. With a heavy sigh, Amber turns back. Map. Some way around.
...cutting through a yard might be an option.
She slips through a sagging gate, with a rotting, peeling sign declaring the place to be "Hannah's Bed and Breakfast." The front yard is overgrown, choked with weeds, fallen trees, and chunks of masonry to the point of impassibility. Amber turns and eyes the building itself, a squatting thing with moldy siding and splintered gingerbread details.
The wooden steps complain but hold her weight as she ascends the porch. Dead plants sit in crumbling urns. An old porch swing sways pathetically, one chain snapped. A faded pamphlet lies in front of it. Amber's passing glance becomes a double-take when she sees the heading, and she kneels to read it.
She peels it off the floor and pockets it, then turns to the front door.
