Every neighborhood has one- the creepy rundown house with no visible tenants, an overgrown yard, and cars on blocks in what used to be the driveway. In short, a place that could be either a meth lab or something out of a horror film. The fact that it looks eerily similar to the house in the Amityville Horror movie (look it up) means I’m obsessed- to the great confusion of my husband.
J: Why do you stare at it every time we go by? Why do we always have to go this way to the grocery store?
Me: I bet there are people locked in the basement. Why is that industrial strength light always on over the garage but the house is dark? How is it we have never seen anyone on the premises in two years?
J: Sigh. You need a hobby.
Then spring arrives and for one month despite the sheets hanging at the windows and the dangerous amount of moss weighing down the roof it is a house that makes you smile. At some point in the past someone took the time, care, and effort to plant these cheerful flowers. Someone cared how their house looked. That alone can send me off into another line of imaginings but ultimately, after the flowers are gone, I’ll be creeped out again.