Maybe, I’m Sure

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." The house was damp, and dark, and smelled abandoned. The roof had not taken well to the heavy snow and had caved in towards the back, ruining most of the rooms on the upper floor. It had always been a sturdy building, but it was old and after being open to the elements for almost a year it was breathing it's last. There lay a sadness about it, the way only abandoned homes could. A sorrow that caught at the throat, made something clench hot and tight in the gut. It was the signs of a life interrupted. A cup left out on the livingroom table. The rumpled blanket on the couch, and the slippers that had been kicked off sometime between sitting down and finishing the food on the plate that also sat there. Curtains still hung before the window, almost hiding a dead flower in its cracked pot. Maea stood there, in the middle of the room. There was something forelorn about her slight figure as she surveyed the damage. Not so long ago this place had been full of life. Voices, laughter, childrens running footsteps... It had been alive. Now, it seemed almost as the house too had mourned the loss of those who once called it home, and had perished along with them. Dead. If a house could die, this one had slit its wrists and bled out. A slow suicide, brought on by hopelessness and abandonment. The sound of feet behind her made her turn. Pale, near colorless eyes squinted a bit against the light of the lantern, but when she saw who it was, Maea smiled sadly. "Hi Peter."