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The house is dead.
Once bright and lively halls, now left tenebrous and alone.
Even the slightest of movements seemed to flow through the ever still air.
Any steps or curious hands grazing the wall were followed by a mocking echo, once an otherworldly sound for the home.
Quiet whispers of the past weaved through the air like a distant memory long forgotten.
A pristine couch waited eagerly for use in front of an equally as new TV.
The drab scene was taunted with the muffled whispers of children and toys, colorful paintings, and smiles, all drifting just as fast as they came.
A scene long lost to time that feels so close yet so far.
Cold kitchen tiles await the day the little feet and hands come back to warm them.
Or the gentle embrace of an oven drifting the aroma of fresh cookies through the presents desolate halls.
A table, once full of voices, just resides in bittersweet silence.
Empty floors long ago adorned in childish accessories beg for that play just one more time.
Curtains sway with the wisp of lively memories of a bedroom, laughed, cried, smiled in.
Floors now cold and still, hold distant souvenirs of the past.
The bathroom remains quiet, guiding as just another room full of lost memories.
Lights flicker with fragmented stories waiting to be complete.
Time continues to rewind, as if fighting the inevitable future through faltering reminders.
Every speck of dust is like a puzzle too big to complete but too valuable to throw out.
Blurred faces so detailed yet too faint to decipher stand still like ghosts fading through time.
Echoes of lost residents are nothing but a wistful hush.
Good, bad, and sad pictures of a different, more distant, time appear like frozen holograms.
Once a terrifying darkness has shifted to a comforting hug.
A final goodbye.
The house is dead,
but the memories still lived.
Over time every faded and destined to fade memory will be replaced with new ones.
The past will always stay just as it is, but the future is always coming.
Reminiscing is like re-watching a movie,
but continuing forward means you make your own.
New memories and lives make everyday just as valuable as the last.
Treat every day with the value they hold.
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