admin
30 Temmuz 2022, 00:08
The vacant, old house at the end of the lane beckons me. They always do - the dilapidated and forgotten. There is an appeal others overlook.Unable to resists its quietness, I settle in, deciding to call this place home.The wind blows through the window cracks, but it doesn't bother me. Oddly, I feel comforted in the chilled corners of the room - a warm welcome of sorts.Dust adorns the mantel. Cobwebs decorate the bland corners. Layers upon layers of peeling wallpaper reveal the different lives which once occupied this space. These surroundings reassure me this house has been uninhabited for quite some time.Yes, this will do nicely.I peacefully güvenilir bahis (http://www.eryom.com/) exist here for some time before it happens - well-acquainted shivers straightening the hairs on the back of my neck. Doors squeak. Floorboards creak. Once again, I find I am not alone.*A woman's soft silhouette appears from the corner of my eye. By the time I turn my head, she is gone. The glimpse of her beauty quiets my apprehension and I set out in search of her. As I turn the corner, I spy*her gracefully gliding about and I, from a safe distance, follow her from room to room. Her long, flowing hair highlights a beautiful face. If the past had not rendered güvenilir bahis siteleri (http://www.eryom.com/) me afraid of them, it would be hard to resist the urge to reach out and stroke one of her silken strands.Thankfully, I sense no ill will from her at this time. Maybe I*could*co-exist with one of them. We could agree to no renovations. Upon gazing at her seemingly peaceful form, I ponder for a moment ... maybe it would be nice to share a space with another.She continues her exploration, not causing a disturbance really, just quietly,*yet methodically, wandering. Finally, she heads up the stairs, pausing as the first step creaks at her.Who is she? iddaa siteleri (http://www.eryom.com/) What does she want?I noiselessly ascend*the broken stairs, careful not to alert her to my presence. Despite my uncertainty, curiosity keeps propelling my feet forward. At the top of the stairs, I see her - moving into my room at the end of the hall.*My room.She moves about with a familiarity of the place;*her look one of inspection. Finally, she settles into the rocking chair by the bed, slowly rocking back and forth as if waiting for something or someone.Was this once her home?I stand just outside the door, peering around the doorframe. After a few moments pass, she does something which shocks me. One of her hands slips inside her low-cut bodice from the top, cupping her breast. At one time, I was a gentleman and know this is not something I should be secretly watching. Yet, I cannot tear my eyes away.