By: Micol Ostow
Here is a house; bones of beam and joints of hardware, stone foundation smooth, solid as the core of the earth, nestled, pressed, cold and flat and dank against the hard-packed soil and all of its squirming secrets.
Here is a house; sturdy on its cornerstones, shutters spread wide, windowpanes winking against the speckled prisms of daylight. Weather-beaten slats of knotted sidings, drinking in nightfall. Tarred shingles surveying star maps, legends shared in the pattern of dotted constellations above.
Here is a house; not sane, not sentient, but potent, poisonous, drenched with decay.
Here is a house of ruin and rage, of death and deliverance, seated atop countless nameless unspoken souls.
Here is a house of vengeance and power, land laid claim by wraiths and ciphers, persistent and insistent, branded and bonded and bound.
Here is where I live, not living.
Here is always mine. "Amity; Pages 3-4"
Here is a house; sturdy on its cornerstones, shutters spread wide, windowpanes winking against the speckled prisms of daylight. Weather-beaten slats of knotted sidings, drinking in nightfall. Tarred shingles surveying star maps, legends shared in the pattern of dotted constellations above.
Here is a house; not sane, not sentient, but potent, poisonous, drenched with decay.
Here is a house of ruin and rage, of death and deliverance, seated atop countless nameless unspoken souls.
Here is a house of vengeance and power, land laid claim by wraiths and ciphers, persistent and insistent, branded and bonded and bound.
Here is where I live, not living.
Here is always mine. "Amity; Pages 3-4"
Calling to mind that Stephen King feeling, Ostow brings the most horrifying house in the world to life with chilling intimacy.
— Danielle Paige, New York Times best-selling author of Dorothy Must Die
— Danielle Paige, New York Times best-selling author of Dorothy Must Die