Depravity

It was an old house that moaned and groaned as it’s weight and balance bowed, giving gravity it’s due. The closets went untended during the daylight hours. He was afraid to look and let things lay where they may. Nights always started quiet, but then they stirred predictably sometime after mid. A door cracks, a floorboard creaks, a hinge sqeaks…so very quiet, yet still detectable when he really listened. They all came out eventually. Disgust, fear, regret, disillusion, guilt, anger and dread. As a chorus line of if-only’s danced upon his buried head. By five, madly sleepless…and depravely deprived…from the house ran naked to scream down morning's light.