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I was taken aback by the slight hint of cat urine in Mrs. Eels basement but honored at the same time. I took baby steps as I followed her down the stairs into this place where she would come and lurk at her beautiful things. The stairs didn't creak or make any noise as old staircases would and they were clearly rotting or being eaten by the rats of my assumption. I don’t think the smell bothered Mrs. Eels because she never said “excuse the smell my dear.” She never said it out of all the times she allowed me to be in the magical place of beautiful things.
When we walked downstairs into the basement, Mrs. Eels pulled a string that clicked when she pulled it and about 30 watts allowed us to see the fantasy and shine. Though things were dirty, I could see the gold trim on the tea cups and the elegant designs on each cup. Mrs. Eels allowed me to touch her magical and beautiful things. I began to wipe them with my thumb to make out the intricate pieces and not to blemish but to see and feel the value as Mrs. Eels did with her human eye. I was not a connoisseur of magical and beautiful things. I would walk around the room looking and peeking into the corners of dust and value, getting value on my clothing and dust in my throat. I found a small lamp that had a cheap brown cord attached. I searched for an electrical outlet and the only one visible was covered with dust and rat hair. I used my shirt sleeve to wipe it off and I plugged the cheap in.
With the lamp, I could see at 70 watts, more magical and more beautiful things appeared. There were smells of Marie Antoinette, Bernadette Freedrick and Malor Curtue all of whom are dead people; disguised as the beautiful and the magical. There were brooches silver and rare. Alot of treasure and distinct application in each piece. Some so priceless, I dare not rub them with thumb or sleeve.
I made my way in the circle to see the beautiful and it overwhelmed the spa