HOME | DD

Description
As I approached the mansion I admired its darkening awe.  The entire structure seemed to make no sense at all – beams protruded out of it at random intervals, the cross-beams often slanted or were placed in awkward places making it unfriendly to my detail-trained eye. The wood was painted in unison the same dark, once rich, brown color – but has since faded so much so that it looked like rot. Slimy moss covered the bottom several feet of the building, and completely engulfed the stairs up to the rusty steel door. The moss gave off a warm musky feel and the sickening spoiled smell of degrading wood.

Upon approaching the front porch I carefully looked around for something not covered in moss to hold, for fear I may slip and hurt myself further.  But nothing came into view and I was forced to slide my hand across the thick green fuzz that lined the rickety railings to the staircase.  All around the crumbling building was burnt shrubs – I vaguely remembered the story behind the burnt shrubs.  A brush fire broke out amongst the small forest of weeds that surrounded the building so thoroughly it was impossible to see.  By the time fire was quelled an aged building was visible atop the hill, one no one thought existed, but atlas it was the missing 4198 the city thought had simply been destroy and replaced with the two rickety houses along South Second Street which I was at previously.

I felt the wet of the thick moss sinking into both my shoe and my boot, the moisture was going to ruin my cast.  I raised my hand and banged on the door, surprisingly my hand went right through the aged metal. I pulled my hand back, shocked, and examined it to see that luckily, the metal was so rusted that none of it penetrated my skin.  Seeing as no one answered the now destroyed door I let myself in.

My feet felt instant relief to get out of the mushy moss and back onto solid ground.  But my eyes were shocked even more with the inside of the house. I expected some kind of old hallway, a broken staircase, maybe a living room or kitchen, but instead I saw nothing.  It was as if the entire inside of the house had been gutted away, I spotted rips along the walls were entire walls to rooms had been torn away, and boxes of lighter colored wood speckling the walls were furniture or counters used to be pressed against the walls. I looked up, thick stalactites of some sort of wax covered the roof three stories above and dropped down almost ten feet a piece.

I took a step back; this couldn't be the right place.  This building didn't feel possible – why did it even exist? My heart started pounding as wind picked up within the building.  The building wasn't possible, she wasn't possible!  I looked down at my hands; they were thick with green, the moss.  How was this moss possible? The place was seemed so barren, so dry!  My heart raced even faster, the wind within the building picked up into a torrent.  Whispering surrounded me.  So dry.. So dry.. SO DRY!?  Possible, possibilities, impossibilities, imperfectabilities, inperfectible, she wasn't perfect – how could she be – how could she be? Who was she? The whispering surrounded me and something screeched to a halt in front of me.  I reached my hands out and looked at the green, which was now brown.  It was ugly, I was ugly – this building was ugly! – And that – I looked forward, was a train.

Description
As I approached the mansion I admired its darkening awe.  The entire structure seemed to make no sense at all – beams protruded out of it at random intervals, the cross-beams often slanted or were placed in awkward places making it unfriendly to my detail-trained eye. The wood was painted in unison the same dark, once rich, brown color – but has since faded so much so that it looked like rot. Slimy moss covered the bottom several feet of the building, and completely engulfed the stairs up to the rusty steel door. The moss gave off a warm musky feel and the sickening spoiled smell of degrading wood.

Upon approaching the front porch I carefully looked around for something not covered in moss to hold, for fear I may slip and hurt myself further.  But nothing came into view and I was forced to slide my hand across the thick green fuzz that lined the rickety railings to the staircase.  All around the crumbling building was burnt shrubs – I vaguely remembered the story behind the burnt shrubs.  A brush fire broke out amongst the small forest of weeds that surrounded the building so thoroughly it was impossible to see.  By the time fire was quelled an aged building was visible atop the hill, one no one thought existed, but atlas it was the missing 4198 the city thought had simply been destroy and replaced with the two rickety houses along South Second Street which I was at previously.

I felt the wet of the thick moss sinking into both my shoe and my boot, the moisture was going to ruin my cast.  I raised my hand and banged on the door, surprisingly my hand went right through the aged metal. I pulled my hand back, shocked, and examined it to see that luckily, the metal was so rusted that none of it penetrated my skin.  Seeing as no one answered the now destroyed door I let myself in.

My feet felt instant relief to get out of the mushy moss and back onto solid ground.  But my eyes were shocked even more with the inside of the house. I expected some kind of old hallway, a broken staircase, maybe a living room or kitchen, but instead I saw nothing.  It was as if the entire inside of the house had been gutted away, I spotted rips along the walls were entire walls to rooms had been torn away, and boxes of lighter colored wood speckling the walls were furniture or counters used to be pressed against the walls. I looked up, thick stalactites of some sort of wax covered the roof three stories above and dropped down almost ten feet a piece.

I took a step back; this couldn't be the right place.  This building didn't feel possible – why did it even exist? My heart started pounding as wind picked up within the building.  The building wasn't possible, she wasn't possible!  I looked down at my hands; they were thick with green, the moss.  How was this moss possible? The place was seemed so barren, so dry!  My heart raced even faster, the wind within the building picked up into a torrent.  Whispering surrounded me.  So dry.. So dry.. SO DRY!?  Possible, possibilities, impossibilities, imperfectabilities, inperfectible, she wasn't perfect – how could she be – how could she be? Who was she? The whispering surrounded me and something screeched to a halt in front of me.  I reached my hands out and looked at the green, which was now brown.  It was ugly, I was ugly – this building was ugly! – And that – I looked forward, was a train.