The Old Reeve
A little noise, quite a low, like a sweet opera. Mike could hear it, the music was knocking on his head for a while. He followed the sound, the melody. It was from the upstairs. He walked up the stairs quite in steady steps. The bruises on the wooden stairs looked quite heinous. He wouldn’t care seeing them. Every step was taking him, close to the melody. The sound was of quite soft yet careful hands. He reached the upper floor corridor, wooden one. The screeching sound was annoying, he knew that. He followed the sound, to the living room. The room looked arranged, the TV was on. But it was mute, wasn’t any sound from it. He followed the sound, to the verandah. It was a mess. The verandah had a nice view. It was at the back side. There wasn’t any locality there. There were just tr
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