Scraps of Fiction
The grey Mansion looms on the corner of the street. It's not old, it was actually never finished. Its owners, in their arrogant blind rush to show wealth, didn't plan its construction wisely and now they are left with an eerie still-born. No money left to build, no prospects to sell and guarded by cheap village labour to practically squat in that eye-sore of a house to maintain some sort of human presence. It's outer fences were the first to go up, then the outer walls of the house, it was built outside-in. Once displaying the potential of a grand house, now just shows ugly materialism and the thin facade of fake wealth.
- Anthea Haryoko
Scraps of Fiction is just to jot down raw ideas that might one day culminate into more developed pieces of writing. Call it fictional snacking, if you will.