Words for Wednesday 10. Januar -- Unicorn Farm 14

This week's prompts are provided by Lissa at The Memory of Rain.
She served us two pictures, I choose only one of those.


Once again I wrote a small chapter from my mock autobiography.


We continue where we left off a week ago.


With trembling fingers Susan opened the letter.
Inside she found a note in Lis' easy handwriting and a photo. The photo was blurry, and when Susan looked closer at it, it was two photos on top of one another. She looked even closer. It was a train station with a road superimposed. The only person to be seen clearly, was a young woman with her back turned toward the camera.



Susan began reading. "We went back to the farm. There was nobody to be seen, and nothhing either. The place was cleaned and everything put back. We found not a single trace of the evening's happenings.>

The very next day we went back to the train station, we spoke to the ticket vendor, the janitor and all and sundry. But even with Tue's exceptional persuasive skills we found no trace of Torben there either. In the end we got the station-master to show us the security videos from that evening. Torben must have suspected something like this, they were garbled, double and triple exposures with postcards and movies thrown in for good measure. The only still we could get, looking remotely useful was this one. Could you try studying it, and send your observations back to us? Heidi has some very intriguing observations. We won't tell, so as not to bias you."

She went downstairs in the quiet house and took her mother's magnifying glass from the sewing basket, but the quality was not good. The train station did not look normal until it dawned on Susan that it was a mirror image. After this she was able to tell, that the people on the photo were indeed waiting for the train for Copenhagen. She tried to ignore the modernistic cars, they seemed to come from an American movie. The lady meant nothing either, she was sure. Then her heart started beating wildly. The man half hidden behind a lamp post ... that was her father! ... Or was it? It was impossible to be sure with this blurry image. She wrote down her thoughts and misgivings and put them in a new envelope.

Her letter had not arrived via normal mail, she was sure. But how did you send a letter with the aid of magic? She was sure either Martine or Birgitta had mentioned something during thieir first school year. She gave the battle up as lost as her memory just would not give, but added a questioning note to her letter. On her way to school, she dropped the letter in a mailbox.