The tires of my car offer the only sound for miles, a gravelly crunch against the overgrown driveway. Ahead, the house stands waiting. Its silhouette is a jagged tear in the fabric of the gray sky, its windows like vacant eyes staring into nothing. It is the perfect portrait of abandonment, a place that both invites and forbids entry, as if the very structure breathes a cold, silent warning. Th...
