nobody home
the light was out
and the fire burned low
to sinister red coals, old
in an offhand manner he noticed
there were footsteps,
footprints
beyond the front door
muddy and cold
and his animals
were nowhere
to be seen
yet something seemed
off
not quiet enough
with trepidation
he scanned the room
and there on the table
sat a typewriter
alone
upon further examination
blood stained fingerprints
dotted the keys
and from it’s ancient belly
a solo sheet of paper
rose like the dead
with the simple message
“i have always been here”