That Damn Barn

That damn barn.
It’s paint faded to a dull rust color, flaking off in small strips like drops of blood spraying out life.
The shutters resemble faded yellow bandages patching up crusty maroon scabs.
The windows, soulless black holes; empty, dark, and eerie.
The door creaks back and forth, pieces of it splintered off.
Rough, jagged daggers surround the entrance.
That damn barn.
Pungent scents inhabit the barn’s core like dark clouds of toxins expelled from deep within.
Dust, the color of ash, cakes the rafters and walls like a thick skin, covering the bony remains.
Hollow and isolated, the unsturdy structure leans sideways, as if with one swift blow it will plummet to earth into a mound of sticks
and stones.
Murky, black shadows envelope the barn like a thick wool blanket, never extinguishing the chilly air that forever remains within.
That damn barn.