The modest two-story home is one of many generations, the aged walls thinned with weather and years. Blue paint is faded along the outside of the home, the planks soft at the corners where water drips more heavily during rain. Drafts cut through the gaps during winter winds, while shades are drawn down in the summer to keep as cool as possible. Outside, a soft nighttime breeze brushes through the tall forest, causing it to sway along the edges of the yard where children once played and ran in the day, children now grown and asleep within the home.
Inside, the lights are off. Hallways and kitchen are silent. Bedroom doors are shut. Shadows rest comfortably in their lazy way, stretched out over furniture and in the corners; they slowly withdraw with dawn’s delicate rise. The air between the walls soon turns a shade of gray, and the furnishings of the house come alive with subtle colors. Curtains hung over windows radiate a soft white at their edges as the sun reaches from beneath the horizon, some of its yellow blades cutting in angles across the walls.