Kate lay back in the freestanding bathtub, the warm water was lapping gently at her shoulders, dampening the tendrils of hair which had escaped the loose knot tied at the top of her head.
She closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting. The windows were free of drapes and outside, a pipe in the rendered privacy wall splashed water to the ground below, creating a soothing tempo to Kate’s harried thoughts.
Ellie’s eyes were wide as they approached the Daheem Markets, the vendors voices grew louder, the hustle and bustle of market day a panoramic blur of colors, sounds and exotic smells.
Row upon row of bicycles lined the market square; Ellie could see they’d been altered so that the back of the bicycle created a two-wheeled barrow, a practical way of displaying the sellers wares in the crowded area.
Men and women, equally brightly costumed, were shouting across one another, openly competing for customers.
The interior of Schoolbreds was 
warm and inviting, Lana slipped onto a barstool upholstered in red leather and surveyed the long narrow bar. Polished wood dominated, the illumination subdued and moody.
Behind the bar, rows of well-polished bottles stood in orderly rows. Leadlight glass enhanced the cosy atmosphere, diamond shaped in panes of navy blue, red, yellow and white.
“What can I get ya?” the bartender asked.
She moved through the derelict building, stepping carefully over the debris coating the ground in a way which made the entire building a safety hazard.
She located the library at last, her gaze taking in the musty and mold-ridden shelves, the colors of the book bindings lost to the ravages of time.
The worm-ridden desk held the prize she’d been searching for – a drawer pulled open revealed the delicate woman’s purse. The silver was heavily tarnished, the delicate material grey with dust.
She carefully lifted the purse, brushing gently at the dust to dislodge it. The material was revealed in tiny increments, the bright silks protected from fading. A peacock, it’s plumage lovingly embroidered in shades of blue. A rose, in the palest of pinks which darkened to hues of bright magenta. In the background, the outline of the mansion in which she now stood, in it’s former opulent glory.
She unlatched the purse seeking the contents harbored in the raw silk lining.
A small note was revealed, with only two words, written in the centre.
‘Help Me’.
D.S. Williams 