Haunted Baby

Yesterday's storm left the ground cold and damp. You time your steps to the beat of rainwater dripping from old growth, feet sinking into the soil caking onto your shoe. The door opens easily, the twist of the knob like a familiar handshake inviting you back. Photographs from your childhood adorn the walls, faded shapes in crooked frames. You make a mental note to replace the dead flowers and spoiled offerings from the last time you were here.