William Bereza on Unsplash

‘Well, it’s certainly a door, and it seems to be real, but I don’t remember seeing it before, it could be perplexing, but it’s bound to have some interest,’ as the red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse), continue to talk to herself, as she muttered to say, ‘only one way to find out,’ as she grabbed the doorhandle.

The door opened rather easily, which was a blessing, and at least there was some light outside, since there was a window, in fact several windows; she’d pressed her finger on the light switch, but nothing, oh well, still down.

She was about to walked to one of the windows, but then she noticed a handy shelf, it had several candles and even better, a gorgeous candelabra – it was very posh – so she lightered all of those candles with a couple of matchers, ‘now this is looking interesting.’

She could use her affectation of candour, and often she would, but this was definitely not needed in this case, because there were so many wonderful objects in all those shelves around the room; all these things were amazing, and all of them were steampunk related: mostly it was art and sculpture, but all in miniature, or at least, small.

So, la Raconteuse began to look at each object, she was particularly drawn to a clockwork clock sculpture, more than beautiful.

She happened to look outside and down; she could see a taxi and a cabbie was waving to her, and rather urgently it seemed.

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