Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I’m going to get stranded and die here before I even get to the property.
Goodbye, promotion. Hello, dead on the side of the road.
The GPS on my phone is telling me to turn left. But there’s nothing here. Nothing but trees. A thicket of brush, to be exact. An endless row of evergreens with no clear road anywhere to be seen other than the one I’m on.
My car sputters forward, slowly creeping farther up the road as I search for the entrance to The Elysian that is clearly not here.
Today has been hell.
After a four-hour drive that should have taken only three, I’ve reached my destination, except like all things that can go wrong, this has, too.
According to my dumb GPS, I have found my location.
The only thing I have reached is the location of hell. That or a great field to buy my next year’s Christmas tree or hide a body.
Christmas trees and dead bodies. Why does my brain work like this?
Lifting my foot off the brake, I give the car a little gas while looking for a turn.
That’s when I see the road. If I wasn’t looking hard, I would have missed it.
If you can even call it a road. There’s nothing to mark it . . .
Just a break between one tree and the next. As I’m making the turn, I notice the road isn’t gravel like it looks, but paved. It’s just painted to blend with nature.
I wonder if this is done on purpose. A way to keep trespassers out.
I continue to drive. A few feet soon turn into what must be a mile, and there’s still nothing but an endless hidden road set amongst more trees. From what I can see, there are no lights here. This has to be dangerous at night.
There is no room for oncoming traffic. How is this safe? Do the trees have reflective tape on them to make sure you don’t hit one? Just as I glance up at a tree in front of me to search for anything that would alert incoming traffic, everything opens up.
My mouth drops open as the picture in front of me comes into focus. Set behind large gates and amongst the foliage is a building.
Never in my life have I ever seen anything like this.
The building itself is also camouflaged. Blending seamlessly into the mixture of trees, both pine and maple, it’s an extension of the plush landscape.
The gates are wrought iron, but they’re not the typical gates you would find guarding an estate or mansion. These look like vines.
Like the building behind the iron, the fence is an extension of nature.
I have no idea what I was thinking when I heard about this project, but this wasn’t it.
A part of me imagined that a fully artificial, intelligent building would be cold and sterile.
This, however, is anything but.
This is serene.
It’s paradise.
And now the name makes sense.
I haven’t even crossed over the property threshold, and I already feel calmer.
This place is amazing. I can totally see myself staying here for a week. The idea of writing this article is starting to sound better.
Despite not liking my job, this is a major perk. Sure, normally, I’m not looking forward to interviewing anyone, shadowing them, or finding out boring, mundane details about roofs, but something tells me what lies behind the walls of this façade will be fascinating.
I pull my car toward the circular drive in front of the main building, then roll to a stop.
As soon as I throw the car in park, I look around to see if anyone will tell me I can’t park here.
The apartments are obviously empty as they’re not finished being built, but I still expect people to be milling about.
When I step outside, I glance to see if anyone can tell me where to go.
There’s no one, though.
It reminds me of an old western movie.
A ghost town.
One where a spiny, thorny tumbleweed rolls down a dusty dirt road. Followed by an outlaw with a gun.
A shiver works its way up my body, but I shake it off, looking back over at the trees.
I inhale deeply, letting the calm take over me again. I’m not sure how long I stand here. I probably look like an idiot, but eventually, I check my phone.
Damn.
I’m late.
Even if I don’t love this job, I pride myself on my professionalism. Being late is one of the things that pisses me off the most, and this time, it’s my fault. I didn’t anticipate the traffic or the remote area with unmarked roads.
That, coupled with the fact that I have been staring at the architecture for the last few minutes, isn’t boding well for me.
I step on the sidewalk, and the door to the middle building swings open.
A harried-looking woman with glasses and a clipboard strides in my direction.