The small cabin in the distance looked uneasy, leaning to the right, rotted. Part of its roof had collapsed in on itself. Windows on either side of the door resembled broken teeth. The plywood door hung on one hinge, crooked. Someone had spray-painted Evil Lives Here over it in a bright yellow hue that now looked dull and weathered. Thick moss the color of black-green rot hung against its sides. Dense brambles blocked the entrance, which didn’t stop Code from entering. From afar I watched him pull on the piece of plywood and slid inside with ease, the knapsack and easel no longer on his back, as well as the canvas under his right arm. All of those items had mysteriously vanished in a millisecond. Once present among the real world. Now gone. Disappeared into thin air. Misplaced atoms.
Davi
