A house across the street is currently an open house. Not an open house in the normal sense of the word, but more of an unintended sunny home.
The former residents, an old-fashioned unmarried sister and brother, who still pumped water in their kitchen, did their laundry by hand, cooked on bottled gas and did not trust any bank with their money, have long gone. The brother to the afterlife and the sister, who never left their yard, – adrift in the fog without her brother – to a nursing home.
The people next door bought the house, to tear it down and to expand their own home in the vacant space. Demolition has now started. Furniture, doors, windows, frames, stairs, roof and ceilings have been removed.
An antique cupboard in the living room was packed with old food cans full of coins. Was this the hidden treasure from the rumors?
For the first time, the sun has free rein all over the house, even in corners that have never seen daylight before. The upstairs walls hang uselessly between earth and sky. In the bright rays of the sun, against a background of old-fashioned floral wallpaper, dust particles and memories disappear forever.