1/02/2012

Crumbling - - a short story


"The guy was a real solitary type of guy, real lonely seeming. And that house, man, that house was old. Crumbling, actually, rotting at each corner, sagging along the rooflines. Thick green moss practically swallowed it up, wrapped it in a fuzzy damp layer of organism. It smelled like moss smells, like humus and decay smell. It was the kind of earthy, wet, devouring air that gets closer and tighter around your body when you walk up the path towards his door. "

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