The Deserted House Was Warm During The Summer Night

The house in the story was passed through the family for generations, “We liked the house because apart from being old and spacious, it kept the memories of our great grandparents, our paternal grandfather, our parents, and the whole of childhood,” (Cortazar 37), this shows how truly appreciated this house is to Irene and the Narrator, this then comes too soon show representation of the future scares throughout the story, “How to not remember the layout of that house. The dining room,

If this story had been told from a first person point of view, the reader my not have gotten this in depth of a description of the setting. Without the reader understanding that the house was boarded up and abandoned, to the point where it seems

I unlock the metal gate and climb onto the front patio. Before me stands a two-story house with newly-refurbished windows and a fresh coat of white paint. I admire the house’s beauty as I stroll past it. I walk through a crowded path of mohintli, white laelia, tithonia, and dahlias that seem to guide me to the real reason I am at this address. After moving the branches of some avocado trees out of the way, I finally find the treasure I am seeking: a small rose-colored house with just two windows and two rooms. With the key my father gave me, I open the doors to enter the rooms. The light switch does not work, so only shadows are present in the room. Giant cracks graze the walls like the markings of a lion. On the ceiling, an intricate flower design shines proudly with the rest of the room, slowly losing its will to decay. Only broken furniture stands in the corners of the room, ashamed to be present in front of a girl from the North. After taking a deep breath to calm my emotions, I lock the door, look to the sky, and walk back to the house I am staying at with my

For many, abandoned buildings hold keys to the past. They are places frozen in time- authentic, eerie, and intriguing all in the same. Photographer and mixed media artist Samuel Quinn is one willing to break laws and trespass property in order to explore and capture these deserted wonders. In 2008, while in the South Shore driving his friend home, Quinn passed an eye-catching abandoned white house that stood lifeless in between two simple suburban homes. Two years later, in need of a new project, he traveled back to the house and began taking photographs for his portfolio A Houses Echo, which, as he describes, holds “portraits of a family who once lived in a house. A house

What remains of the family that used to live in the house are their shadows as they died

The sun was kissing the horizon; the day was just beginning, and the sweet sounds of the birds morning sound had awakened me. I was sitting in the same spot I do day after day, happy and well rested. I awoke from my peaceful slumber with a large, clanging chime that echoed off the walls and the roof. The sounds of footsteps stomped down the stairs, and there, as always, was Todd. And as he always does, he shuffled his way to the kitchen and turned on the coffee. Finally, as the aroma of burnt coffee grounds filled the air, a new day had begun.

The house is said to be haunted by Dies Drear and two slaves who were killed by bounty hunters. The third slave ran away. The neighbor, an old man named Pluto lives in a nearby cave who acts fishy, almost like two different people. Weird things start to happen to the family like them finding 4 triangles(which the slaves used to use) which makes a Greek cross and the kitchen covered full of flour when the family was gone. Thomas thinks these are the acts of Mr. Pluto. After the incident of the kitchen, however, Thomas and his dad run in the middle of the night to Mr. Pluto's cave, thinking he caused the mess. After finding a secret passage in the cave which is full of jewels and valuable artifacts, Thomas and his dad realize that their were two

As the story begins the reader begins to see a glimpse of the daily routine the house goes through. Then, as the story goes on, the reader realizes that this self-sufficient house is surrounded by a world in shambles. Everything inside the house seems normal, yet “The house stood alone in a city of rubble and ashes, this was the one house left standing.” (323) The irony here shows readers that this highly advanced technology has no awareness

“THUMP! THUMP!” A soft thumping sound came from May’s room upstairs. She glanced up from her dinner plate, curious as to what was causing this noise. Her father, Jack, however paid no attention to this disrupting noise. He was too engulfed in reading the news from his phone. May chose to speak up. Since the thumping noise had yet to cease.

“There was a roar that seemed to make the pavement heave; a shower of light objects pattered on his back. When he stood up he found that he was covered in fragments of glass from the nearest window. He walked on”

He wanted nothing in the house. His sisters could have it all. His father lived the last twenty-six years of his life in the two bedroom frame house, most of it drunk. Cheap

“You seriously don’t want him to see you. Try going in through the window on your right. The lock should be broken.” I stumble over to the window, prying it open wide enough for both of us to get through. Both of us hit the floor hard, not expecting the floor to be that far down. We creep around the building we were in, Witter directing me

As Arnold Friend tries to seduce Connie into the car she went deeper and deeper into the house searching for her youth. Yet, it was not there. She uses the home as a place to hide from her fears yet not realizing that she lives there. ?The kitchen looked like a place she had never seen before, some room she had run inside...? ( ). There is a sense that she has changed from her childhood ways and the house is no longer her youth and she is now an adult.

The day had finally come. The day he would go home. Now he had never been to this home or had ever even seen it. But that mattered not to Walter. The only place Walter had ever lived or at least remembered living was the gloomy, old orphanage house on 5th Street. Its tall, black fences and cold, grey stone never felt like a true home. He always felt an eerie feeling of sadness here.

The door of her room was slightly open, leaving a crack between the door and its frame. Upon the door, there is a small window half covered by a curtain. Light from the