1. Standing alone, the abandoned abode cowered from the new world.

It was as if it were from

another time. Another place, long gone, where life was much simpler. It hadn’t kept up with the

pace of time, ticking on. It had paid the price for this and been left to rack and ruin. The natural

word around it was beginning to encroach. Claiming its walls with ivy and wisteria. Nature crept

over the house, claiming it for its own. Windows had been taken by the weather, battered during a

storm. The word had been filched by rot and wood worm. The roof was in the process and being

entirely snatched by moss and lichen. The path leading to the house with shambolic pot holes and

ruts littered it. No one cared to maintain it anymore as the farm had lost its purpose. Agriculture

gave way to industry, as did a whole way of life.

2. The grass shimmered and swayed in the evening sunlight, dancing and moving as if it were alive.

As it did this, it realised pollen and seeds, creating a haze above it that looked like mist. Birds

chirruped and chirped in the trees, calling to one another, discussing the day’s events. Bustling

around the trees from nest to nest, tending to all the day’s labours. The sky itself seemed to be

alive, bright azure and dazzling. The spars clouds danced and jumbled about, like playful puppies.

It was odd though, all this natural life in a place of human abandonment. The house created a

stark contrast with its surroundings, a blight on a pure and natural space, but as the same time, it

was as if it had always been there. It was both intrusive and slotted in perfectly. All at once.

3. The breeze ruffled my hair, taking away with it all worries from my previous life. It was as if I

was being born again. I felt the stress lift from my shoulders, liberating me from the chains of a

stressful job, a demanding partner and a hectic lifestyle. This would be my new home. I would

build it back from this derelict state, coax it back to life, slowly and gradually. Fill it with love and

warmth. It would become like a womb to me. Save and comforting. Home.
I could hear birds in the trees, chatting with one another. I could hear the sheep and cows of a

nearby farm, baaing and lowing. It was a comforting sound.

4. Night was creeping in over the land, taking with it the warmth and light of the day. Inky

blackness began to take over the sky. Without street lights and other buildings, the sky looked like

pure velvet, untainted by orange glow. With night came animal activity. Day dwelling creatures

were crawling to their beds whereas nocturnal beasts were just waking, readying themselves for

their night. It was as if the world was both dozing and waking. The air felt electric, filled with

potential. Everything was fresh and new, despite being cloaked in darkness, and anything was

possible. The wind picked up and the house squeaked, creaked, moved on its foundations as if

both settling itself for the night and preparing to endure it.

5. I didn’t know the last time I had visited. I couldn’t remember the outside of the house, I just

remembered the feelings of being within it. The warmth of my mother, the stoic yet comforting

presence of my father. The gabbling geese and the dawdling ducks in the yard. The livestock in the

shed, chewing cud and letting out sounds of contentment. Never would I have thought that this

place, this magical, homely place, could be reduced to this. A shell of what it once was. Just a shell.

It looked like a carcass of a magnificent beast, its flesh and muscle torn from it. How could it have

fallen so far? But I could still see the potential and I could still feel the warmth of my mother, the

stoic yet comforting presence of my father.