In darkness, bleak, a lady walked. Under a night of quiet and emptiness, her footsteps tapped on the pavement. Crimson hair shone and teetered with the wind; bright eyes stared at a shop–closed.
However, Penelope decided to turn around and walk forward with slow, steady steps. Her destination got closer as time passed.
A home of soothing ambiance–but also a modern aesthetic–appeared before her eyes. Bricks of red stood atop each other, and silver coursed in those gaps.
She strode to the door; its surface was painted black and yellow, and a gold rectangular plate decorated its front.
Knocking sounds echoed after, hands striking wood. In this silent night, those noises echoed deafeningly.
Then stopped, Penelope in wait while gazing at the street lanterns, unlit, but a red glow lingered.
