House of Ages

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In a stereotypical setting, a little cabin is nestled somewhere in the midst of forest and mountain, acknowledged by few yet known by many. The house is without electricity and modern conveniences, its owner choosing to live simply with well water and candle light. This woman had learned far too long ago not to let her desires overtake the mundane pleasures in life as such a thing only led to one's own defeat. All she wished for these days was a guest. One special guest who would see her for what she was, in all her boring beauty, and kindly give her that last shot at a friendly life amongst the company of another.

It was late one evening when this person finally arrived. A young man; handsome, well-kept, and eager to make his way in the world. He had left his parents' home recently, opting to do things on his own rather than remain in obscurity and deal with the pressures of keeping his mother sane and his father happy. He wanted more, discontent merely existing to exist, subsisting on a constant cycle of being needed yet degraded, and needing them, but not feeling any warmth in their company.

The man had come across the house after deciding not to stop in the tiny town just on the other side. Surely there was no grandeur in such a place. However, as night approached and he found the woods stretched further than anticipated, he figured it would be safest to take shelter until daylight shone once more. Rapping gently on the wooden door, his body swayed while waiting patiently for an answer.

"Oh? What can I help you with, dear?" an elderly woman had cracked the entrance slightly and peeked out with a kerosene lamp in hand.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I was hoping that you could spare a room for the night," he asked, "I've been traveling all day and have nowhere to sleep."

"All day?" she repeated in a croak, "Did you come for the city then?"

"City?" the man grew curious, "I was only aware of the town close by," he lifted a finger toward where he had come.

"Oh no," the woman likewise pointed a thin digit in the opposite direction, "There's a marvelous city just yonder."

"How far?" he inquired.

"Ah, not too far," she hummed with pursed lips, "Twenty, thirty minute walk."

"I see. If that's the case, I'll just continue on," the younger nodded, "I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"Wait!" the elder grabbed the man's wrist the moment he turned to step off the porch, "You might get lost in the dark! Go ahead and come in, rest your feet and you can explore the world fresh in the morning."

Having already disturbed her, the man didn't want to have wasted her time or be insulting by denying this offer. Besides, he knew the type. She was old and alone, probably without family of her own. No doubt having company for even a couple of hours would mean everything to her. So he agreed, strolling in with a warm thanks to his gracious host.

The inside of the cabin was entirely unexpected. In contrast to the plain exterior, it was decorated lavishly: the furniture carved ornately from the finest woods, the seats upholstered with authentic leather, and the paintings were of the most beautiful the man had ever seen. Everything was also impeccably clean as if kept in perfect place by a live-in maid.

And that wasn't all.

The old woman had slowly showed him through the main floor and onto another that was underground. Not a basement, but a complete story with multiple bedrooms, an extravagant lounge, and even offices and a library. It was astounding and unlike anything he'd witnessed or even thought could have been pulled off on an architectural level. It was when she finally led him to one of the rooms and told him to make himself comfortable that he decided to speak up and ask about her arrangement.

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