Aged yet Magnificent

“Let's go for a walk, Franklin.” He wags his tail and licks my face, excited that I hadn't totally forgotten about the walk as it was already past his normal walk time. Franklin loves his walks and taking him in the evenings was also therapeutic to me. It helps ease the stress from working as an intern in a renowned company.

The air is cool and heavy with the scent of damp earth and aged wood as we approach the old mill. “It's been a while we walked this path,” I say and Franklin barks happily as the mill comes into sight. Moonlight filters through trees and casts a rustic glow on the rusty roof of the mill.

The night is filled with gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional call of crickets who were now occupants of the mill. Shadows dance along the walls as the wind blows, creating fleeting images that made my skin crawl when I caught a glimpse of them.

“Are you ready to tour the exterior of the mill?” I said to Frederick and he got a case of zoomies, wanting to race around in circles forgetting he was on a leash. Taking a deep breath, Frederick and I trespass into the compound.

First thing my eyes met as we inch closer to the building was the waterwheel, illuminated by the soft moon light as it turns with a slow, mournful creak. The windows, many with panes. Some cracked and some missing. It's dark and hollow. My heart bleeds for the abandoned mill.

The old mill looks even more fascinating at night especially with the full moon in the sky. As we walk further, we get to where there's gravel spread on the ground and it crunches under our feet when we step on it. “Shh,” I warn, gazing down at Franklin who's wagging his tail, enjoying every second of our intrusive behavior.

Suddenly, an unseen breeze wildly stirs the surrounding trees sending shivers down my spine but I look at Franklin and he's still wagging then I'm relieved there's no danger ahead.

I can't help but notice the wooden beams and stone foundation. Moss and ivy crept up the walls, also twinning with the timbers that have darkened over time. “They used really good woods here,” I commend, because the woods were only darkened but not really bad to the point of collapse.

At this point, I turn on my flashlight and fix my gaze on the interior; it's rusty. The machines are covered in dust and cobwebs and my heart squeezes seeing them lie eerie in silence.
“It was once bustling with activity, Frank,” I rub his head and pick him up. It was getting really cold so he curled up in my arms as we made our way out of the vicinity.