3 AM Epiphany, Exercise SIx, I believe

We entered the room with our collective breath held shut. We knew that violence had wrecked the place, but we did not expect that to still hold or be visible. Still, one hopes there's a smidgen of creepiness floating about the room. Some errand blood stain that escaped the clutches of the police investigators; some lock of hair, scraped onto a single nail on the far wall, that still held.

There was nothing. That did not mean we were disappointed. Anna entered and moved to the right, watching for image to form in her head. She remembered the details from the articles and books, we reviewed them together before heading to this haunted location.

We wanted so desparately that ghosts still existed in these walls. Of course, there was nothing we could do to bring them about; nothing to encourage them to make the walls bleed in cinematic fury. We would have to supplant the history of the house with our own imagination. And as we all know, imagination can be far worse then reality.

We creaked the floor with every step, even when having to walk on the throw rug. The room itself was something out of picture book--every bit of furtiture was in the same postion as the books mentioned. Nothing had been touched. Dust was removed. The hooks of French curls held up every arm on the couch and chairs, clawed feet supported the coffee table. Dark brown held the light lower then it should have been. The only thing missing were the shadows of twilight. And considering it was merely post-lunch, they wouldn't be coming soon.

We both circled to the bay window behind the high backed couch. There, the rug halted, the back of the divan creating a small wall. The street was empty, surprising for this rush hour. The floo's bare wood lay before us.

This was weird the corpse had lay.

"This is so cool," Anna smirked.

"Agreed. All we need is it to be Halloween and we'd be good to go for a few scary stories!"

The clock on the mantle chimed and we both jumped. Haunted houses were great fun. Even with doing nothing, we had packed a few minutes with terrific energy. We didn't want to move.

Anna's stomach growled.

"Don't you ever get enough food?"

"Nope. Should we take pictures now or after raiding the fridge?"

"We'll never think clearly if we keep going back to your stomach. Let's eat something first."

"We can only hope the kitchen looks this, ah, authentic!"

She was right.


In this exercise, apparently part of a series related to pronouns and syntax-subjects; I had to use the plural "WE." I was not to use "I" at any point.