Aria
It was late afternoon. On foot, I was passing by a secluded home. It was a two-story house, which was made of concrete and wood painted in white and green. The house had green gambrel roof with two small glass windows in front, both on the upper and lower stories.
The big house was near the wooded area, with a wide front yard. The lawn was well-kept, with its green grass cut clean. A dog house—without a dog in sight—was in a corner near the wood fence, which was painted in white. The paint was quite old that it was peeled off.
A sudden scream disturbed the quiet air, which made me stop. It came from the inside of the house. A woman in her late twenties came out flying as soon as the door was pu
