Day 542

The kitchen is the heart of the home - everyone knows this.
Its counters pulse and thrum with life as the rest of the home patiently awaits new occupancy.
The chairs are fixed in place, thick fabric coated veins leading to the heart.
Ornate wooden tables covered in dust and seemingly merged with the floorboards.

It went beyond the interior, neighbours reported seeing movements from within.
Little things like strangely shaped people waving at them from the windows, arms bent impossibly
and the sound of something enormous breathing heavily as they walked past.
One person even reported seeing the walls move like it was trying to reach them.

Needless to say it's been empty for years and the rumours of it living have put off any demolitions.
The house was so desperate for something to live within in, it created its own family.
Blankets and cushions stuffed themselves into clothing and gave themselves names.
Nice human names - things they'd heard on TV that fit them like Cecíle, Roberto and Lorna.

The house was less empty with its family of puppets moving about, garbling "normal" conversations.
Of course they sounded nothing like humans but it was enough to content the lonely building.
Until a living child climbed over the fence of its back garden.
Until it remembered what a living being's footsteps felt like.

Many have gone missing since that child, the house sent its family out to get friends.
They don't always stay for long - the house's cupboards are too empty to keep them alive.
The neighbours have either moved out or moved in and the whole street is flooded with silence.
Houses keep their lights off and doors locked, protecting their own from the other.