From when I was young

There was a building behind our dead dystopian backyard

That always caught my interest.

It was an old building

with a faded grey and white surface

closely relating to the shape of a box

three black glassed windows near the top

Stuck out like a sore thumb

Any indication of life living there was

null and void.

But with my young idiocy,

I had always curious of what lied inside

This curiosity developed into an urge.

A continuous urge that wouldn’t stop til’ I

scavenged it’s inners.

It was in the middle of a late night blizzard,

I had snuck out of my warm comfy room

to the backyard where it stood.

Still in pajamas,

I carefully climbed over the fence and towards

the entrance of the old structure

In which I was met with

an old rusty door.

My expectations were ever so slightly demolished

when I opened that door

it was empty.

No stairs.

No rooms.

The only thing present was a frail man,

a green table,

and a bowl of rice.