The amazing thing about Room 215 at the Six Sentence Cafe & Bistro is that no one knew it was there until the red-headed writer opened its door and just walked in. Then the tall, thin man followed her to open a secret chamber hidden in that delightfully mysterious room.
After hearing about the room’s mechanical machines and the strange, very short man that emerged from it I went to look for myself. I was wondering if maybe I might find a story there, marvelous and melancholic under its ancient dust, about King Arthur’s Camelot or the Starkeeper’s Carousel to tell others back in the cafe.
However, no matter how many times or how slowly I went up and down the hall where the wonderful room was supposed to be, I couldn’t find it though I had no doubt it was there. Although I came back empty handed, at least as far as marvelous stories go, I still could tell about how I was not going to give up the search.
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Denise offers the prompt word “dust” for this week’s Six Sentence Stories.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 
I should join the search because the Nervous Poet is too timid to do it alone…
If you find it tell me too because I sure as heck wanna know what is going on in there.
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Yes, you might as well join the search. The room is there and full of stories. You may just find it. You likely will. Blessings, Reelika!
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