The house appears in the middle of a weed choked clearing. Neglected and run down it sits hunched over with some kind of black birds perched on the roof.
The man in the living room wears an out dated, moth eaten suit two sizes two small. He leads me into the dining room.
Next, the man in the bathroom enters bloated and constipated with liver spots all over.
Gliding across the room,her black see through gown flowing, the lady in the bedroom sits down across from me. Her make-up is smeared, her hair is out of place and dozens of rings strangle her fingers.
Following the lady is the man in the attic in his bizarre, black hooded cape.He sits beside me on the right. His eyes fixed in an eerie stare, he gazes nervously and suspiciously around the room.
Suddenly the man in the basement comes crashing in wearing nothing but a pair of dingy white underpants. Completely hairless with mold stained hands and feet he sits next to me on the left.
Lastly the man in the kitchen emerges. Gaunt and weak, his suit hangs loosely on his wire coat hanger frame. He strains and struggles as he pushes the rusty dinner cart into to room.
Under the tarnished silver dome is the main course consisting of lukewarm leftovers. Overcome by strange mix of shame and dread I excuse myself and leave slamming the door behind me.
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