One because the gates were small. And the fences were too short. Supported by iron rods only probably because the demon or human that lived in there had enough confidence that nothing could hurt him.
And two because she lives on the seventh floor which was the last floor and gave her a great view but also, great stress of walking to the seventh floor. Especially now that the elevator had a problem. A problem that hasnt been fixed in two months. Ana crossed the streets taking her mind off all her troubles and walks into the building. There is a coffee shop and hair saloon and gym on the first floor. And she pitied them, because if this bundling crumbles..hahaha.. who was she kidding. When it crumbles, their expensive items would be first crushed along with their stubborn heads. Not the coffee shop though, she had an acquaintance there. Taking the stairs again which was a great pain in the ass for her, she had reached the fifth floor when she remembered that she had told the man who sold second hand items downstairs that she would be picking up her desk today. The desk that took her three months to pay for. But she was too lazy to go back down now and didnt have the energy to carry the moderate but heavy desk up the stairs. So she just ignores it postponing it to the next day in her mind. On getting to the seventh floor she was already heaving. As always. She manuevered the hall to her small flat. Which was numbered 1204. But on getting there she could see a desk by her door already.
Anastasia quickly walks to it. It is the same desk she had paid for. Could the man have been nice enough to bring it up for her? Figures. John was too stupid for his age. Probably why she was able to get this good desk at a low price from him. Not that she wanted to take advantage fo his kindness but that was how this world had trained her. This is how it works on earth now. She struggled with the key for about a minute like she always would and finally got the door open. Ana knew that she couldn't run into her apartment ro save her life, the door knob would just get her killed anyways. Hurling the desk into her room, she locked the door and turned on the lights. The apartment was small really.
By her side was what supposed to be a kitchen but wasnt functioning so she had turned it to her sewing area. A huge table with fabrics on it and a machine she had saved years for only to finally get second hand just a year ago laid there.
"More pressing matters. Need to set this desk up and look for a job." She told herself. Luckily she had a space next to her bed, where there should have been a vanity but as she could not afford one, the desk would serve purposes.
The desk somewhat looked stout but it was surprisingly spacious enough that it contained pigeon holes, one filled with dust and webs. The drawer were just three. Each with a pigeon hole. But what seems out of place was that the desk still extended downwards. So much that she felt the last drawer must have the space of two extra drawer. Anastasia places her hand underneath hoping to feel the base of the the drawer, the strap of her purse getting in her face. Annoyed, she drew closer the only chair she had and removed the purse, throwing it on the bed. Suspecting that the third drawer wasnt what her fingers were feeling, she drew it out. All out so that she removed it from the desk. It made a creak, due to age and she saw a whole huge space underneath. One that was big enough to make room for two more drawer. The last drawer which she felt should be hidden was now clearly open to her.
"Who makes desks like this? If you want to make a secret drawer then do it perfectly. Anyone can easily see this." The second hand desk must have really come from the old house of a Lord that was now in ruins like John had said. She had thought he was merely bluffing when he told her.
The secret space contained letters stacked up in two bundles. One behind and another in front. Some fresh paper that was already yellow at the edge with age. Ink and brush that seem to have lost all its feathers already. A little sealed black box and a pendant that sparkled in her eyes.
Ana sat there staring at the desk in awe. With how tired she was today, this was definitely the kind of soothing she needed. To unravel what lays inside this drawer. Could John have placed this here? The man although 20 years older than she was seem to be giving her some kind of green light in the past months. Staring at the stack of old letters, she wondered what could lay in it.
The reason for the world war?
Some cheques that were yet to be claimed?
Or maybe money? But money had changed in the span of ten years. Would it still be useful? That is if she ever sees money in it.
She picked up the first bundle of letters and carefully removed the one at the bottom. Placing the bundle on the desk she inspects the letter she had just removed. She was yet to draw the curtain so she could not tell if the flowers were printed on the envelope or embroidered on it. Not wanting to feel too lazy, she got up to draw the curtains and the view of the proudly standing mansion opposite her was in her face.
"Yes thank you. Remind me of how great my life is going right now." Falling into her bed, one of the things she allowed herself luxury on, she peeled the letter open. The flowers at the edge were hand embroidered. She knew this because she knew embroidery to its last core.
"Must be some love letter. Silly of me to have hoped for money." She had not finished saying this when she heard movement in the roof. "Silly silly mice. You all have a death wish up there?" She shouts.
"Can you keep it down, my daughter is trying to sleep." Her next door neigbor who had just put to bed and would always complain shouts back.
"You live in BoHo. Your duaghter can never have a peaceful sleep!" Anastasi retorts back. The woman didnt give a response knowing she would always have something gruelsome to say in return.
The folded paper, slowly opens stiffly. Probably because it had been sealed since long. The hand writing was beautiful. Possibly masculine as Ana knew feminine handwriting back then looked like doctors prescription. But she could read this so definitely it must be masculine. It was a love letter. Just as she had thought. It read:
Anastasia,
I hope this finds you when you are alone and calm. I picture you to be a very bold lady. One courageous enough to speak forth her mind, but wise enough to know when to run for her life. Though you are a figment of my imagination alone and may have come to life with a face I never seem to remember in my dream, I know one day you will exist. Not in my fantasy but in reality. But when it comes to happen, will I ever have the chance to see you? Will I ever be able to look into your eyes, which I assume would capture my soul and tell you of the quiet nights that you get me through?
Anastasia. Your name smooth yet rough on my lips. Soft as I call for you in my sleep, is this the only thing which belongs to you that you will be leaving me with? I hope to see your reply if you ever exist one day.
I will think of you tonight as well and maybe during the day when I am filled with the quietness again. Have a wonderful day, My Lady.
All that I cherish,
Dmitri.