69 OPHELIA CLARK
A gray, starless sky hung behind the old Victorian house as it slumped miserably beneath the light of the moon. Abandoned for the second time, its windows sagged like down-turned eyes which longed to weep, but could not find the tears. The twisted and overgrown garden crept along the porch and up the columns while the branches of the large oak tree clawed at the home’s trim.
Barefoot and in her white nightgown, Ophelia watched the house from the sidewalk as the faint glow from above bathed its facade in a soft yellow light. Moments later, a loud, thunderous boom echoed across the sky and shook the earth. Ophelia wrapped her arms around herself, still feeling the vibration in her ribs. The clouds shifted strangely and pushed past the old Victorian rooftop with unnatural s
