Short Story

The wind blew viciously between the trees. Sarah pulled her coat tighter around her frail body, her hair sweeping around her face. She turned and looked back at her new home; a large, plain building stared back at her. She knew she would have to go inside soon as it was getting cold and it was probably going to rain but she decided to take one last look over the fence. Standing here she, she could see right onto the main street and, if she shuffled to her right slightly and leaned forward, she could see the door of the church.
The light reflected off something on the ground and caught Sarah’s eye. She bent down and picked the object up, fingering it before putting it safely in her pocket.
Large drops of rain began to fall as Sarah slowly wandered back towards the building. Inside, she closed the door and took her shoes off. She looked around her. All the way along the long, cream hall, on both sides, were doors; no pictures or paintings or photographs. As she strolled towards the o...