Across from your door, there’s an old, abandoned house.

On a full moon night, go down the stairs, cross the street, and peek through the broken windowpane.

You’ll see a large, empty room. The black holes in the high stucco ceilings are all that remain of the starstorms that ceased shining there long ago.

Now the house is serene. It awaits, expectantly, a new beginning.

But today, it only wants to feel its walls’ skin wet by the moonlight pouring through the window. And then sleep, with a cleansed soul.