A House of Cards

Looking for gas and a convenience store I turned off the highway into Green Meadows. As I coasted of the ramp into the neighborhood I instinctually turned down my radio. A stop sign gave me my first chance to look around. Tall grass blew in the wind and I something compelled me to shut off the engine without pulling over.

As I stepped out of the car the door’s slam seemed to shake the town. I called out but the overgrown lawns ate my words and returned to silence. I had seen my fair share of ghost towns but there were no ghosts here. Green Meadows had never been given the chance. Absent were the human leftovers I’ve grown used to, even comforted by in the lost places.

For an afternoon I wandered the sidewalks. Even without time and decay this place had been forgotten more completely than any abandoned building. It is not the ghosts I fear now, but the lonely, forsaken void, always searching, always guessing at what might have been.