Pouring rain drips down the windows of my midnight blue Chevy Altura as I drive down Fig Street to the aged 4326 on the 130 year old house with rose and cream colored paint that now had faded to a dull gray.
I pulled up to what was left of the gravel drive way and stepped out of the car.
I walked up to a dull blue colored door and reached for the rusted doorknob. I open the door and stepped into a dark and drab kitchen.
Spider webs stick to my blue dress and jeans;mud covers my black vintage Chuck Tailors.
I step from the kitchen to the dinning room with the plates still in the exact spot that the where they had been placed for the las