The man stepped out of his car. He found himself in front of his old house. The mere sight of it brought back memories. He began to walk through the yard, towards the door, while noticing how much the house had changed. The yard was a wasteland, vegetation either dead or overgrowing onto the decrepit house. Time had taken its toll on the house, most of it now rotting wood. He slowed down his pace once he got close to the front door. He began to once again think of the many days he came in this place as a child --the feel of the cold metal doorknob, the stale dull colored door, and his mother’s face... He hesitated to even knock on the door. Right as his breath started to leave him, he armed himself with what little courage he had left and knocked on the now rotting door. The man waited for