He hadn't seen the old man since last week. Normally the old man would visit the bridge everyday. They would sit at the little bench near the bridge and talk for awhile. The old man Always talked about strange things, but Isaac quite liked that about him. Last week they'd talked about the old man's daughter. She caused the old man a lot of headaches, and the old man often talked about the trouble she'd gotten herself in again. Isaac didn't believe half of the trouble the old man told him about, some things were just too impossible/ But it never mattered whether he believed the old ma or not, the old man didn't seem to mind, he just loved telling stories. He was Always nice to Isaac and he'd often said he really enjoyed Isaac's company.

So Isaac worried why the old man hadn't shown up for an entire week. It wasn't like him to skip a day, let alone an entire week. He worried something might have happened to the old man. Something had been of last time they'd seen each other, but Isaac couldn't quite figure out what it was. They'd talked like they always did. The old man had told Isaac about how his daughter had started painting. He seemed to think she was quite good at it. He'd even said that her paintings were sometimes so realistic that they actually came to life. Of course Isaac hadn't believed that at all, but it had been a very good story. Isaac hoped the old man was okay, maybe he was just out of town or maybe he was just not feeling well. So Isaac kept coming to the bridge, hoping that the old man would show up again. He didn't think about the odd feeling he'd had last time he'd seen the old man again. Not until something quite strange happened. A bird had come to the bench Isaac always waited on, now that in itself wasn't really strange. But the bird kept coming. Everyday it would be waiting on the bridge and everyday when Isaac arrived it would fly to the bench. Just like the old man had always done, except the old man couldn't fly, of course. Days went by before Isaac remembered the last conversation he'd had with the old man. About how his daughter's paintings could sometimes come alive, and it got Isaac to thinking. He started to wonder if the bird, the old man and his daughter, the magical artist, might all be related.

One day when he came to the bridge and sat down on the bench he turned to face the bird. 'I always used to sit here with an old man who told me stories. He loves stories, he said telling stories made him feel alive. I wasn't in a great place when I first met him, here on the bridge. But his stories gave me something to hold on to, something to look forward to. They gave me a reason to get our of bed in the morning and they helped me make it through the day. So I would really love to know what happened to him. Do you happen to know where he might be?'

The bird flew up from the bench, like it had been waiting for this moment. Like it had been waiting for Isaac to ask this question. The bird led Isaac to a small house near a park. The curtains were shut and the garden was empty, yet it didn't look like a house where nobody lived. It looked like a house that was trying to keep out unwelcome visitors, the kind of house where basically everybody is an unwelcome visitor. Isaac didn't have time to care what the house looked like, the bird had already knocked onto the door with its uhm.... (I am writing this in one go and I have no clue what that pointy thing on their face is called again).

The door was thrown open, though no one had opened it. A woman appeared at the end of the hallway. She smiled a creepy smile when she saw Isaac. 'You must be Isaac, I wondered when you'd show up. My dad just won't stop talking about you. He said you need him, he even called me evil for keeping him away from you.' She laughed. 'Can you believe that? Calling me evil for such a stupid reason? There are so many things that make me evil and he chose something so pathetic.' She gestured for Isaac to come inside. 'Come on, he'll be so happy to see you again.'

Isaac hesitated. 'Will I ever walk out of that door again if I step inside?'

She laughed, like she couldn't believe what he'd just said. 'Of course not you idiot. Or well, I might just make your dead body walk out of the door for fun, but you'll never make it out of here alive.'

'What if I don't go inside?'

'Then I'll kill you right here and now. And don't bother trying to run away, you'll be dead before you make it out of the garden.' Everything about her told Isaac that she meant what she said, so he did the only reasonable thing he could think of.

He walked inside.