Drabble 219

Finished 6:51.

 

In a rickety old house at the end of the street, a ghost lived all alone. The windows of the house had all been smashed and though they were boarded up the wind would slip through the gaps, whistling through the house. The garden was overgrown with weeds, and the gate shrieked in protest at any attempt to open it. Still the ghost waited, desperately hoping that one day life would return to the house, that it would be filled with anything other than the rats who paid no mind to the ghost's rattling of chains and rearrangements of furniture.