The House on the Hill

There was a house. It was a white house with a fresh coat of paint. It was on a hill.

Sometimes, the wind would whip over the hill and strike the house with such force that it would tremble and shake. Other times, the house would sit still, silent under sunny and cloudless skies.

The house held a deep and dark secret.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *