On the exterior, it was like a carny, I could hear its breath rasping, it seem to know that it had gone too pale, the crows were silent in the trees.
Surrounded by high walls and ivy, it had all the symptoms of being haunted, it showed age spots and the paint was peeling as if it had Psoriasis, at one time it must have had a foppish personality, there were the remains of seed gone to weed gardens.
It reeked of the urine of mice and lizards as I followed an umbilical cord on the floor as if they had danced and bled I entered the parlor.
It was more than meat on a shelf, it reeked of decadent Salmonella, it was laughing with a belly full of its own castration.
Sitting up by day playing the piano, "it's hard to love someone when that someone doesn't love you, " or dying at night with death's infestation, bones are to flesh what a ghost is to a corpse.