This is part 2 of Mosvil:
A fragile lady appears innocent in the doorway of the uninviting cabin. She was a person of mature years wearing a long dirndl dress full of thick black lace around its long white puffed sleeves. A beautifully hand-sewed light blue flower design lay sprinkled around the trim of the dirndl dress. A stained off-white apron snatched the lady’s waist with an embossed name: Gisela Afflerbach. Black-pointed Mary Jane-style shoes were buckled around her feet and paired with long white socks with lace lining the ankle. The woman had a square jaw with a long pointed chin that helped shape her prominent cheekbones.
“Guten Tag, wie geht es dir im Wald?” Gisela said softly yet in a questioning voice.
Atticus and Penelope shared confusing facial expressions, sending more of a negative gesture to Mrs.Afflerbach.
“Of course, one would hope…” Gisela started answering her question.
“Good evening, please reassure me that the cabin is making your sojourn here in Mosvil pleasant,” Gisela said quickly.
“Well hello… I can surely say this place isn’t like back home.” Atticus said in a sarcastic tone to which he proceeded to laugh.
Penelope shot a gesture towards Atticus as if this would be brought back up for a later argument. The couple encouraged Mrs. Afflerbach inside the cabin however a childlike smile disappeared once asked for such a gesture. Gisela eyed the doorway, tracing every inch of the door as she proceeded to take a step back. Gisela grabbed her dirndl right where the flower pedal traced her trim then lowered herself into a bow.
“I must attend to my cattle before the sun settles, if you need anything, Penelope, please come visit me.”
“Oh…have we met before? I don’t recall telling you my name-” said Penelope however was cut off by Gisela’s actions.
Gisela briefly shifts her body facing her back towards the couple then proceeds to walk off the visible pathway and towards a nothingness within the woods.
Penelope couldn’t shake off the feeling of how this stranger knew such a small detail.
“Did you tell that woman my name Atticus? How could she know?” whispered Penelope.
“Why are you being weird? I’m sure she heard me say it, I don’t know. Anyways, what are we having for dinner?” Said Atticus as he pounced himself on the old dusty couch.
Penelope rolled her eyes as she paced back and forth through the kitchen trying to make a dinner suitable for the both of them.
“Why did we come here? You know this run-down town won’t fix our run-down marriage.” Penelope said in a low demanding tone.
“At least I am trying,” Atticus remarked snappishly.
Penelope wasn’t satisfied with Atticus’ actions in which she proceeded to dramatically throw herself a coat on and headed into the obscureness of the woods’ introduction. Penelope casually walked through the inky darkness heading wherever seemed fitting though the forest floor was thick with fallen leaves and shrubs, making it difficult. A mirk dimness established itself as Penelope went deeper and deeper into the woods. A tickle of dryness rested in her throat as the cold metallic breeze vanished and reappeared like a shadow struck by the sun’s rays. Penelope became clingy to every unfamiliar jerking sound as she discovered the realization of isolation. The moon had lifted the darkness from patches within the forest, revealing a figure that revealed to Penelope that she wasn’t left alone after all.
