The brittle wood of the old cottage stood as firm as ever, pieces of it always seem to aim for my face when I walk in through the door. To be more accurate, aiming straight into my nose and traveling down my esophagus 'til it land deep inside my lung to cause my lungs to slightly die.

I've been pondering arson for the place for some time now to be honest.
But... there's just no point anymore. There's barely a roof to set ablaze and the walls are more hole than wall.

Without the old-style led-paint the place would just be a faint memory of ever having stood as a form of some sort.

Dust in the wind seem like an appropriate phrase.

To be honest, I kinda like the place.
It feels safe for some reason.
Though that reason can't really be based in any sense of reality... you're more likely to die than walk out when you push away the fear and turn the knob slightly to the right until it falls off.

When the knob fall off, the door is almost open.
You just have to kick a couple of times in strategic spots before it whines and fall ontop of you... unless you jump at a certain moment.


/