If I weren't so familure with this house, it'd seem creepy. The way the plants are hunched over, looking forlorn. The way the ivy hangs on the house like its the one who owns it. The way three or four clocks tick loudly off of each other, like they don't know if time is passing too quickly or too slowly, but either way its going without you. The way all the ceiling fans are on, causing cool drafts. The way light doesn't seem to invite life. The way dirt and dust collects all too quickly.
This house isn't creepy though. It might be neglected, but it's not abandoned. Everything has made this house its home: the plants and ivy, theclocks and fans, the dust and dirt, and maybe even the real owners
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