Hearing steps on the hard wooden
Floor
The stairwell
Was loud
The stove pipe went through the upstairs
And in the winter
Don’t you dare accidentally lean on it
Stories Of red devils and bourbon were told
And at night you could smell the musk
Great grandpa’s
Drunk slumbers
Running from the horned guy of fiery righteousness
Running upstairs
Crawling
Terrified
The slightest minute alone up there
Was fear
I found it oddly comforting
To sit there
And wait for things to happen
For doors to pop open
With no wind
For old women to pace
For electronics to turn off and on
And for footsteps to be heard with no one there
To feel the presence of someone else in the next room
When no one was there
I was weird