I’ve decided to take a mini hiatus from An Empty Grave, but I will be back with it as soon as possible. In the meantime I will be posting more short stories and poems, and here is one to start if off.
The Red House
there once was blue house at the end of the street
and then a family moved in.
there was a mother,
and three loud children
who all grew and grew
into something different.
the mother carried the groceries
and the father worked to the bone,
and they all screamed late into the night.
louder and louder
their voices got.
Angrier and angrier,
slowly, the siding of the blue house
First it was little cracks,
but the angrier they got,
the more the blue chipped
until their was no longer a blue house
but a red one,
painted bright with rage