Silken Inheritance

Stood on the steps, I pushed my leather-gloved hand to lightly knock on the door but as the cowhide met the hard grain surface, the dark of a hallway revealed itself to me. As the light behind me tried in vain to illuminate the path ahead, I could see little else aside from a shadowy couple of doors and a staircase. Dust danced and swayed in the breeze as the autumn morning sun caught it.

As I breached the threshold the cold skin of my face met the dancing dust and I noticed silk drapes everywhere. Not the sort you expect in an abandoned home protecting old and potentially valuable furniture.

Silk threading that hung down from the chandelier and from the corners of the ceiling. One door was more silken webbing than timber on first appearance.

The job was worse than the landlord had suggested. That's the problem with taking jobs over the phone without viewing it first.

Still, as I slowly stroked my fingers across the wall immediately to the right of the door, I felt scuttling in the distance.

Their warning system worked. That was for sure.

I realised then that I had to do what most wouldn't in my situation. I slowly removed the leather glove from my right hand, one finger at a time as I felt a slight breeze fill the tight cocoon and my flesh welcomed the air. Though if it were sentient it would not thank me for the breath of dust-filled air as I pressed my thumb against the wall and felt it cling as I tried to then pull it away.

"Mother, where are you hiding?"

I waited in the quiet, and closed the door. I knew Mother preferred darkness.

"Just a second, my dear," came the usual raspy response of the old woman who laid my egg so long ago.

*

Thanks for reading!

I was a bit at a loss what to write next. Too many ideas flying around my head. So this came forth.