Nobody's Home

 The splintered front-door whined on its rusted hinges as my palm pressed gingerly against its frame. I stepped into a room echoing with troubled hues of brown. The threshold reeked with the smell of rotting fish intestines, and the flickering lights upon me danced to a silent song. The mahogany table, caked with cobwebs and soot, lay still as a starfish, only slightly shuddering at the sound of the dangling chandeliers upstairs. I ventured further into the depths of the darkness and stopped to take a glimpse into the inky sky outside. 

The broken window panes were now smothered in grime, still flapping restlessly to the pale wind outside. Ivy gnarled its way through the tiny crevices in the ground, whispering whimsical notes into the air. My eyes searched for the source of darkness that engulfed the house like a growing flame. I heaved a deep sigh and pushed the front door open again, tumbling into daylight.