Grilled Cheese

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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-16 08:00:47 EDT

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I replenished the chambers of my Colt and open the room door. The hallway seems to stretch long as my eyes find the door at the other end. I #sigh with relief as no apparition dances in the shadows whispering words of doom, and only paneled wood and plaster breathe in the silence of the house. I pass through the door of our room and move into the hall. The floor creaks loudly, announcing to the house that something living moves within. I come to the top of the stairs and look down. The light of the day is flat and grey through the two small windows that flank the front door in the foyer. Daylight gives me courage, it seems, and I quicken my pace towards the door at the end of the hall, but then I slow my pace again, not hesitating but not in a hurry. The door itself has given me pause; caution slows my strides. My mind screams denial, sure I couldn’t be seeing what I was seeing: the dark, wooden door at the end of the hall was bending like the skin of a balloon, straining outward then collapsing in, it creaked and moaned softly, inhaling and exhaling, the door seemed to breathe. from the novel Weathervane by Ross McDermott
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