The House at the end of Bleeker Street

It stood alone at the very end of the road, far past where the street had turned from the familiar black and yellow hardtop into gravely dirt. The vine-covered, wooden-paneled, slanted house stood with an alluring force that you had tried for so long to ignore. But, with your presence at its front door, you know that you have failed. You could try to convince yourself that you’re just taking a qui…