Fields Of Doubt

The sun pierces through white clouds, forever unchanging, onto an ever-stretching field of grass. A dilapidated house sits gently, laying on the coarse soil, worn by the ravages of time. The house is not alone; other structures just like it dot the grass-covered landscape.

Sparse and far between, but just as close as they need to be. A breeze blows from multiple directions, but the grass does not sway as the field’s silence resonates through the land, just as any sound might.

No vegetation grows aside from the tall, still grass. Each step taken feels redundant due to the sheer size of the disorienting landscape, making it easy for one to lose track of where they have been, where they plan to go, or what that figure in the distance is. Simply turn around.

The numerous rundown houses are spotted with old furniture from a time once known. Each door leads to another decrepit wooden room with little purpose. Their nonsensical geometry creates little reason to explore them at all.

The door to the basement casts an immense feeling of dread, despite the total lack of life in the area. The prospect of turning the handle is ever-so compelling. It feels as if it may lead out of this realm. Simply turn around.

Fields Of Doubt was written by Dr_James_Lord with critique from Mystery_Machine12, Journalist 004, and egglord. The images used inside the article are in order: Abandoned House by Billy Hathorn

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The sun pierces through white clouds, forever unchanging, onto an ever-stretching field of grass. A dilapidated house sits gently, laying on the coarse soil, worn by the ravages of time. The house is not alone; other structures just like it dot the grass-covered landscape.

Sparse and far between, but just as close as they need to be. A breeze blows from multiple directions, but the grass does not sway as the field’s silence resonates through the land, just as any sound might.

No vegetation grows aside from the tall, still grass. Each step taken feels redundant due to the sheer size of the disorienting landscape, making it easy for one to lose track of where they have been, where they plan to go, or what that figure in the distance is. Simply turn around.

The numerous rundown houses are spotted with old furniture from a time once known. Each door leads to another decrepit wooden room with little purpose. Their nonsensical geometry creates little reason to explore them at all.

The door to the basement casts an immense feeling of dread, despite the total lack of life in the area. The prospect of turning the handle is ever-so compelling. It feels as if it may lead out of this realm. Simply turn around.

Fields Of Doubt was written by Dr_James_Lord with critique from Mystery_Machine12, Journalist 004, and egglord. The images used inside the article are in order: Abandoned House by Billy Hathorn