An eager little girl sat with her father in an Arabian horse-driven cab that clucked along the stony road.
She sat with her feet tucked under her, hidden by her ankle-length white pearl dress, as if she had just returned from mass.
She leaned towards the yellow window of the cab to stare out at the passing Gothic buildings with an old-fashioned inquiry in her large eyes.
A stream of wind flew in through a rather large crack in the window and she squinted, her honey brown eyes watering.
A heavy night autumn fog was hanging low onto the worn road.
Laura could make out a rather large metal-cast sign at the front of a similarly eerie gate, where the carriage stopped accordingly to manually open it.
Her father kept her tucked into his side even as the carriage slowed to a stop, jerking forward and back again.
Although it wasn’t nearly cold enough for winter clothing, her father had required Laura to wear her small simple white gloves and large white beret that covered her ears.
The carriage door was opened and she hopped down to the grown despite the protests of both the cab driver and her father.
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