THE ABSURDLY SCARED
I'm the absurd seven story abandoned house the hilltop wears like a crooked crown, alone and jagged, cut imperfect, fragile and paper thin, a rattle in the wind where bats and clouds hang suspended around me from black and purple thread from the twine the birds have pecked at and acquired to build there nests and around the bend you saw a brown cat that appeared black in the night. . . I'm the cliche house every child fears but no ghost wants to haunt.
by George Bushnell