Writing From the Inside

The Old House was cold and damp, and, except for the single light burning on the console in the front hall as he walked toward it, completely dark. It was obvious from that fact, and that there was no fire, nor any note for him to build one, that Barnabas did not intend to bring Miss Winters up for a visit. Willie stared at the candle, his hands fisting in the air in front of him, feeling the shiver move through his chest. A ripple that came and went, for-ward and back, like waves on a damp ocean shore.