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This house is haunted and I know it is, I’ve been here a few weeks and I already sense your presence for I am not scared or frightened but merely comforted at ease.
I see the pile of raisins that you leave in a cluster upon the wooden draws and get drained of any moisture as the sun glazes over its already wrinkled skin.
The dead looking over the starved living, oh what irony.
I do not wish to know more about the supernatural being that haunts these walls and entertains my dog as I do not wish to look for the dead amongst the living, I do not wish to wonder so deep I get lost and forget reality as my neurones rub together.
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