The crunch of grit under my boots, the rattle of an upset bucket, the clank of a disused lead pipe as it rolled from its ages-long resting place: these were the symphony to my thoughts as my eyes flitted among the clutter.
The breathy notes of far-off wind chimes barely chorused above the hissing grass outside while the wind blew a howling note across the mouthpiece of the broken windows. Whoever had been here before me had taken their life with them, leaving an engineered vampire of wood, tar paper, and detritus that longed to fasten itself onto a new soul and live again through another being. Memories lurked among the cobwebs: memories that were not mine, hidden from the callous observer, yet clawing at their confinement, eager to moan their tales of unknown things.
It had drawn me here, knocking at the gray gate of my thoughts. And as I pressed the shutter button, I felt the talons of the unknown hooking themselves into my spirit. A thousand words to reach a thousand lives. The dead rose again through me.
Exposure Data: ISO 100, f/16, 1″
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