It was a small red brick cabin near the road crossing one village in Poland. A brightly green ivy covering on the roof, lack of the doors, as well as holes in the windows, let assume that decay had already moved there and invited to have a look on the painful agony of this once beautiful house. Thus, there was nothing else to do but cross a wild jungle surrounding the building and enter its decaying walls.
The place was significally bitten by time. There were a few rooms in the house and most of them were covered with a thick layer of rubbish, damaged furniture and other details of previously definitely much nicer interior. The mess inside made it rather difficult to recreate the exact picture of life there but there were a few elements that let see at least a bit of it. These were old massive beds which should had been fitting perfectly oldfashioned rural interior, also, some clothes left making it possible to imagine the former owners, and other details, damaged, but still meaningful when trying to get to know about the past of the place.
Apart from the living area, there was also a small room in the cabin with a few bird cages inside. The mentioned cages were empty, the same as the house was, even without any feather around visible, at least at first sight, and seemed it had already been a really long time since the last whisper of the bird’s wings there. This room, similar like the whole cabin, was missing everything that once was making it lively.
On the other hand, there was another thing blowing a bit of different kind of liveliness to this place. Ivies, lots of ivies, like snakes, wrapping around the walls, and some of them brave enough even to enter the decaying building and cover its messy ground. Seeing the mentioned plants left no doubt about the current owners of the place.
Before leaving the house so that decay could finish taking over the place, it’s worth to have a look on one more detail, rather unusual one—a couple of crucified Jesus figurines put on a window, similar to those that can be found on grave crosses. who knows, maybe they’re from the graves of the former inhabitants. Lying on a decaying wooden windowsill they create an impression as if the souls of the owners came back to see their home once again, and there wouldn’t be anything surprising about that at all—seems it was a really nice place.