All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms of their errands glide,
With feet that make no sounds upon the floors.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Haunted Houses
“They called them Sears Modern Homes.” Glen lit another joint but didn’t offer to share this time. “A person could order a house through a Sears catalog and have the whole kit shipped by railroad. My grandpa built this house with some other townsfolk here in Deer Tick Creek. In fact, most of this section of town is comprised of Sears houses dropped off at the rail stop on the north side of town and put together by neighbors. Very communal, no?”
He led the gang up the short walkway to the front porch. The six of them peered into the windows to see what was inside the small two-story house flanked by a decaying oak tree that the wind could topple any moment. Glen pointed through one of the windows to a spot litter with debris and a recliner that appeared to be intact only through its own will.
“My dad sat there every night after a hard day at the factory drinking beer until he was almost too inebriated to get up the stairs. Some nights mom just left him passed out in that chair. One night I came downstairs to check on Pop. That was the first time I saw one of the monsters. Looking in this very window.”
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