The following is a work of fiction.
Living in the shadow of an old university might be unpleasant to some, but I found it refreshing. The young college students always left me feeling nostalgic for my own youth. I loved spending a lazy afternoon wandering the shops that lined Franklin street, not far from the University of North Carolina, the oldest university in our country’s history.
The students mostly ignored me as I passed among them. They giggled with each other over some drama and I’m quite certain they found me boring and stuffy.
I passed bars already full even in the early evening hours. Laughter drifted onto the sidewalk and I drank in their joy, eternally thirsty. I passed The Lantern and the smells from the best Japanese restaurant in town made my mouth water. I wandered in and out of antique shops for over an hour and while humidity clung to my skin each time I ventured out onto the sidewalk, my brown curls became more wayward, making me look like less upper-class than I should.
As the head of the Preservation Society of Chapel Hill and the wife to one of the most prestigious men in the city, not to mention the oldest family line in town, it was my duty to make sure each historical home was properly furnished. Our recent acquisition brought me to Franklin street on this particular day and as always, I was saving my favorite shop for last; Whitehall at the Villa.
Finally, Whitehall lay before me and a smile whispered across my lips. I listened for the small jingle of the bell that announced my arrival as I pushed the door open and I waited for Edward’s enthusiastic greeting. I let the smell of antiques fill my nostrils.
“Elise! Darling! It’s been so long! Stop. Don’t tell me. You finally acquired that lovely little home in Barington Hills. I have just the thing for you!”
Edward dramatically removed a sheet from one of the antiques. Overwhelming deja vous tingled down my back. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen this piece before and I had to have it.