Richard shuffles from one room to another, he for some reason salutes the room as he enters.
'Good day, sir' He mutters as he draws his hand up for his salute to the empty room.
The dust is an inch thick on nearly every surface, the floorboards creek as he meanders around the old house, he has lived in this house his whole life, being 93 years yesterday. His old rotting slippers catch on a rusty nail protruding from the floorboards that he has managed not to catch for over a month.
'Shit, another one bites the dust' He curses the nail, these were his best slippers, and he couldn't see himself getting a new pair.
As he bends down to untangle the material of his slippers from the nail, his glasses fall of his head and to the floor.
'Shit, another one bites the dust' He splutters whilst trying to catch his breath (all this bending is much too much for a 93 year old).
As he kneels down again to retrieve his glasses, he hears a crack.
'Shit, bugger, well.. Shit' He says softly as he fumbles with his broken glasses, one of the lenses has been cracked by his ever so boney knees.
'Another one bites the dust' He laughs to himself (He knows he'll never see properly again and doesn't mind, he's found himself in this state of waiting for death for the past few years, nothing matters anymore)
He squints around his home as he finally manages to stand back up, he has to feel his way around the room to reach the doorway to the kitchen where the natural light might help him see slightly better.
'Shit, bollocks' He curses as he knocks into several things, uncertain as to what they were or where they came from, he carries on towards the kitchen.
As he reaches the doorway, he hears solemn voices coming from behind the door.
'And i could..' A faint voice is heard saying from behind the door.
His heart for some reason is beating quite quickly.
'Who's there?' He says softly, nervously.
Nothing.. no answer.
He slowly and cautiously pushes the door open.
Light billows in from this, more often than not, unused room, dust is thrown around and he coughs a few coughs.
'Hello, Richard' A figure of a woman, surrounded by shear light greets Richard.
I own the rights to the picture as i took it in my kitchen.
This is my first post here and more a jam on the keyboard (musicians terminology)
Thanks for reading!