While standing in the street, he can see everything, there is no half-circle of life that he saw at the first house. He looks up and down the dead street, nothing has changed as far as he can tell. He looks at the ruins that were once 1716 Green River Road and crosses over the sidewalk, to the path toward the house. As soon as he crosses that line, the line where the sidewalk ends, the arc returns again. Everything within a small radius radiates colors and life that seemingly is no longer there, but he sees it.
Walking toward the house he sees no toys or any sign of what could be construed as the yard of a family like before. Instead he sees an immaculately groomed lawn, must have been done professionally. He has never seen grass so rich and full, seemed that every blade was exactly the same height as the next. And soft, he wanted to take his shoes off and run through it, but thought better of it.
The walkway was made of an elaborate set of well kept stones, each seeming to fit perfectly with the next, shapes of triangles, squares, rectangles all laid in a mosaic pattern that was stunning to look at, let alone walk on. He came upon a fountain that seemed to be made of gold, surely it was just painted to look like it, no way it was real gold. As he passed the fountain he started to hear another voice, it seemed to be listing off something, but he could not understand what it was saying.
After a quick tour of the yard he headed back to the path and to the front door. Marble columns greeted him as he approached the house, as smooth as a calm pond on a windless summer morning. Looking down he saw a very large “W” of what looked like black granite that had been pressed into the white marble entry way that matched the columns that he had passed. Rose bushes surrounded the entrance, Red, Yellow, Pink, he had never seen such magnificence before.
The voice kept a constant flow of. . . names? Was it names that he was hearing? He could not tell as it still was not very clear. Walking to the front doors, he pushed them open and again, just like in the last house, a blinding white light startles him, this time only saying one name:
‘Well that explains the “W”‘ he thinks to himself. Looking around in his semi-circle of vision, it seems that the inside of the house was even more breathtaking than the outside. It also seems as if the arc was smaller than it was at the first house. Maybe he was imagining it, heck maybe he was imagining ALL of this.
Looking up he sees the biggest chandelier that he has ever seen. As he stares at its magnificence, the voice is getting clearer. He can tell that it is definitely saying names
- Darin Morrison
- Yvette Jacobs
- Suzanne Mccarthy
- Wilfred Powers
- Clark Day
- Wendell Harrison
- Aubrey Jordan
- Sherri Vaughn
- Andrea Brady
Did all these people live here? Was that possible? The voice just kept saying more and more names. It didn’t make sense.
- Brandon Stevens
- Elsie Simmons
- Maryann Gross
- Shelia Bass
- Lyle West
- Leonard Morris
- Jerry Caldwell
- Tony Thornton
- Hilda Waters
- Eleanor Gordon
How was he supposed to help all these people? He had to get away from this voice, this list of names just kept growing, how can he get it to stop? This doesn’t make sense. As he moved away from the chandelier, the voice became faint but still could be heard.
He made his way deeper into the house. . . . .