The sky darkens as a thick blanket rolls over the small village. As the air thickens, breeze turns to bursts. The power lines sway dangerously high above the ground. The town is battered and abused, the buildings small and weak compared to the mighty force of nature… All but one… Its name is never spoken aloud, for fear of what might happen if it is ever truly acknowledged, “The House on 12th Street”! The rain grows harsher and the lightning more relentless, but all is dry inside the house. The light from the merciless storm pieces the windows, catching on the airborne dust particles floating in the main hallway. A long, beige beam of light flows elegantly from the windowsill and lands gracefully on the wooden floor. But something is off about this magnificent scene. Lightning strikes! The silhouette is unmistakable. The shadow of a human hand laying, cold and stiff. Everybody knew this house was to be taken seriously, the locals of the village daren’t go near it, and its almost comp
These are some photos of a trip we had. it was very rainy and very cold so we couldn't stay out for very long. Me and my brother, sheltering under this beautiful piece of art imagine all of the work that someone put into this this one looks like our lamp I look forward to seeing you in my next post. until than, Bye