Alas, the house is quiet.
A woman whom can not be particularly described as "dainty" but aged by a trying life has succumbed to sleep within her corner of the bricked home.
The home's walls made of plaster start their creaking, accompanied by a soft roar sounding from the a/c that can never stay fixed for more than a few months at a time.
Darkness overtakes each room one by one until the home is one big shadow of black in itself.
Shadows dance along four walls covered in an ugly neutral green that yearns to haunt memories as long as one shall live.
They grow and grow as the night lingers on, taking on various forms until they retire for the rest of the night.  
The cold sends its piercing scent of metal to and fro, taking up as much oxygen as possible.
But, alas.
A faint blue makes its appearance through a 5 by 3 window in the north wall, expanding until it illuminates my cold room, snatching the evil shadows along with it.