Testing the Limits of Time

Chapter 1: The realtors Discovery

The evening sun embraced the horizon, casting long shadows over everything on the silent streets of Hansville except for a figure standing out in the middle of the fading light like a red cherry against grey concrete. With her fiery red curls, as wild as her adventurous spirits, brushing against her eyes that held the glint of irrepressible curiosity, Skylar Jane strolled along the streets of her hometown, closely observing every house that lined the sidewalks, fuelled with a sense of purpose and knack for discovering endless possibilities.

A scholar by name but a realtor by profession, Skylar was a blend of contradiction and revolution in the modern world. She had always been fascinated by houses since she was of tender age when the only houses she explored were dollhouses. As she grew older, she would head out to explore different neighborhoods beyond the confines of her home. From the variety of architectural styles differing in unique brick placements to the overall aesthetic of each house, every minute detail would spark a peculiar joy in her that other kids her age struggled to understand.

"She walks the streets with the intuition of a psychic, ready to retrieve a hidden gem before the "For Sale" sign even goes up, and the sixth sense of a detective who might as well uncover secrets in the housing market someday!"

This would be a common joke about her amongst her peers, but Skylar would take it as a compliment. It was not long before her passion bordered on a full-blown obsession, and that is when Skylar decided to turn it into a full-time profession. As much as it rewarded her entrepreneurially, being a realtor also fostered the curiosity and imagination of her untamed spirit. She was not a seller of houses, but homes. What others considered dilapidated, she would spot a potential in it. There was no bigger joy than aligning the expectations of her clients with the house of their dreams.

But finalizing the deal was the least thrilling part for Skylar. For her, the best part was discovering the history and tales behind every home she explored and encountered. In a world where houses are reduced to mere transactional properties and viewed only with a monetary gaze, Skylar was the one who believed that every house had its unique anthology to share with whoever enters or dwells in it, each differing in interpretation. Each time she discovered a property, she believed it honored her with the responsibility of preserving its legacy for future generations to appreciate.

For her, every window was a gateway of adventure. Every door was more than just a board of wood that wasn't just used for entering and exiting but served as a mysterious portal that offered the potential to discover endless possibilities in different worlds.

Wandering the streets as she set out for another adventure, Skylar couldn't help but wonder about the possibilities that awaited her in every corner.

"Today feels different. I think I will make myself stumble upon something that will change my life forever!" she assured herself, scanning each house as it came with a code that she was trying hard to decipher.

Each street blurred into one another, lined with cookie-cutter blocks of concrete that shared a bland identity.

"Is it just me, or do all these houses look like they were manufactured in bulk in a factory? Like, where is the originality? The charm? The character? The creativity?" thought Skylar to herself as she walked past the uninspiring houses that looked all the same.

As she walked on aimlessly, Skylar became increasingly frustrated each time she encountered a beige monstrosity, one after another, disgusted by the lack of originality prevalent on this side of Elm Street.

"Ugh! They all look like literal clones!" she groaned.

Every street was more disappointing in terms of mediocrity than the one preceding it. Each house lacked character and soul, the qualities Skylar valued above everything else. She felt like looking for gold in a coal mine.