W O N D E R W A L L [ m.h ]

01

Hey lovlies, may I present you 'Wonderwall'. This is a new story and I am so excited to share it with you. Just like the other story I am uploading 'Desiderata' the plot and the ideas have been written a while ago, collecting imaginary dust in my computer folder. 

I hope you will like it and the comments are appreciated. I actually want to know what you think and if it's worth of posting or not. 

**

Setting down her battered suitcase, Sheila shrugged on her grey, double-breasted coat and wrapped her black scarf few times around her neck until she was sure that the coldness couldn't reach through it. With her gloveless hand, she picked up her suitcase once again and followed the signs to the exit, following masses of people who did the same.

It was chaotic and Sheila was sure that the number of people on the King Cross station, in that very moment, was matching the number of people living back home, in Hutton-Le-Hole. Among those people, Sheila noticed happiness, sadness, excitement and many tourists trying to take picture on the famous platform 9 ¾ while looking ridiculous with striped scarf around their neck.

Sheila made her way to the exit, finally greeted with the cold air and the claustrophobic feeling disappeared. She fished the phone out of her tote bag and scrolled through the numbers she saved just few days ago. Deciding to call her mother latter, she dialled the only name saved under letter 'X'.

"White Strokes Graphic Design Studio, Xavier on the line," a male voice responded in a formal tone.

"Um," she started nervously, speaking was never her forte, "It's Sheila. You said I should call you when I arrive."

There was a short silence on the other line, "Oh, yes! Is it Wednesday already?" the guy spoke more to himself than to Sheila. "Look, just take the taxi, I will text you the address and I will also check if there is anyone to let you in. I think Elvis is there."

Sheila didn't understand much, she couldn't actually follow his pace so she just confirmed to whatever he said. After getting the address from Xavier, she walked to one of the cars lined in front of the station and showed the address to the driver who kindly greeted her. Texting her mother that she arrived safely, Sheila looked through the window, droplets of rain sliding down the glass.

"Long ride, miss?" the taxi driver asked with a small smile, stopping at the red traffic light.

"Yes, you could say that," she responded, fiddling with the ring on her thumb. She wasn't keen on chitchatting but she knew how to be polite. Sitting on a train for six hours made her socially numb as if she wasn't awkward enough.

"Moving or visiting?" he asked again, looking ahead of him, on the road filled with many cars.

"I am not sure yet," Sheila sighed discreetly, "we will see."

"Well," the man behind the steering wheel smiled at her in the review mirror and the vehicle started moving again, "London is a beautiful city. Either way, I am sure you will enjoy it."

**

Watching the taxi drive off, Sheila's confusion grew higher and she looked around the neighbourhood. The buildings with lined up entrances, cars parked on the sidewalks and naked trees that probably created a nice shades in the summer and a rather sad picture in the autumn. Still a bit lost, Sheila pulled out a phone and frowned on the blank screen – her mother wasn't really happy with her leaving to London and her future flatmate probably forgot that he promised to call her again.

"Hey," a voice called from behind her as she pretended to look something on her phone, feeling like an utter idiot, just standing in front of someone's house. Sheila turned around, her eyes meeting with a tanned guy leaning half-way through the window. "Are you Sheila?" he asked with a grin and she just nodded, too quickly. The guy disappeared from the window and soon the front doors opened and he ran out on the doorway, his feet clad in pair of slippers. "Come in, I am Elvis."