The House On Hollowford Lane

Its windows see you..

Its walls know your name..

It waits at the bend in the lane,
windows glistening like wet eyes in the dark.
The boards swell and sigh as if drawing breath,
and the air around it tastes faintly of rain and rust.
Step too close,
and you'll feel it lean toward you -
listening.

And once you step through its door, it doesn't matter why you came - it already knows how you'll leave.