Part 1 Sight

Sight

The house was stained with damp as if it wept tears. The cracked window panes and lichen encrusted  chimney spoke of long neglect. The overgrown bushes around the house cast shadows across the smashed windows. Tendrils of mist rose over the hill   behind the house and rolled down towards the remote spot. As I approached through the bushes and grass they grew in tangles across the path as if holding me back. A breeze whipped through the bushes in front of me, and I gazed at the dilapidated door, and its rusting handle.

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