A chill spread through me, I felt like I had interrupted something. The tree seemed to pause in mid-step over the old house. Roots, perched like tentacles, spilled down onto the ground, pooling at my feet.
The whole place smelled of rot, damp and moss, as if touching anything would cause it to decompose and be lost forever. Everything within the house had long since rotted away, including, I would guess, its past inhabitants. Woodland creatures took refuge between its walls, like something out of a fairy tale. I wanted to stay, but it wasn't safe, and I'd read enough fairy tales to know that the giant would probably be on its way soon.
The wind whistled, something was on its way here, I ran to the house and jumped in through one of the windows with no glass, spooking rats, squirrels and bats to name but a few. Empty bed frames and an old oak table were all that remained of the past owners, apart from an old net curtain, which lay torn and half rotten on the floor, its former glorious white colour had gone to the dirty grey of dust. Once I decided it was safe I was gone, never looking back at the tentacled tree, which had probably moved on its way to wherever it had been going before. I wiped it from my mind like a dead bug on a car windscreen, pulling up my hood and running along to grandma's house.
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