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❝Violet, aren't you.....nervous?❞
❝Does it matter if I'm nervous?❞
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★゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★
THE SOUND OF COUGHING fills the empty silence, the coughing goes on for a few minutes before revealing the person coughing was Mr. Poe. He coughed into a red handkerchief, with a typewriter in front of him. He stops and licks the the germ infested cloth.
He begins to type on the typewriter and write upon a large stack of papers as he did so. Mr. Poe pressed on the intercom and asked, "Jacquelyn, could you bring the Baudelaire and Silvers file's in here, please?"
"Hello, my name is Lemony Snicket, and I'm sorry to say that the alleged entertainment you are watching is extremely unpleasant."
"Jacquelyn, could you bring the Baudelaire and Silvers file's in here, please?" Mr. Poe repeated.
"From the beginning of this miserable tale to the last melancholy scene, I cannot think of a single line, a single word, that does not chill me to my deepest bones. "
"Jacquelyn, could you bring the Baudelaire and Silvers file's in here, please?" Mr. Poe repeated once more.
"However, the sad history of the Silvers and the Baudelaire orphans did not begin in the private, somewhat ill-decorated office of Mr. Poe at Mulctuary Money Management."
"Jacquelyn, could you bring the Baudelaire and Silvers file's in here, please?" Mr. Poe began to cough once more.
───────✧❁✧───────
Nor does their story begin on this grey and cloudy morning at their home, where the Silvers children, Matthew and Melody received terrible news.
Ashes flew in the air as the once large and proud home of the Silvers stood broken and empty. Melody collapsed on her knee's, her dress and hair sprinkled with ash, tears flowed down her cheeks. As she watched her life fall into ruin before her eyes.
