As I paused to grab my flashlight, I could hear the screeching and cracking of the distressed beams I trusted my weight on. Fully expecting the wooden structure to give way, I held on tightly to a banister loosely affixed to an adjacent wall. Repositioning my weight, debris slipped and crashed down to the basement, two floors below me. Slowly I inched forward, further past the menacing collapse, to the relative safety of a dark side room.

In the corner a boarded window refracted the few rays of natural light that managed to seep through, providing just enough illumination to avoid turing on my flashlight. Like a recently frozen lake, with each step I tested my weight, listening intently, hoping not to plunge through into the wooden abyss below. The decay at this level was extensive, a hallway door swung in limber, waiting to fall victim to the massive collapse. The squeaky hinges keeping tempo to its advancing demise. The frigid temperature for once seemed to be working in my favor, with everything frozen together I was able to pass through to a secondary staircase and make my way down to the ground floor.

I felt a bit safer at this level and missing boards let plenty of sunlight in. The dinning room floor littered with old news papers and torn book pages was an interesting site, but a turn around the corner and another collapse blocked my path. Across the room what was left of the kitchen remained in peril. The cabinetry hanging on by its last bolts, and a heavy steel sink just barely supported by the rotted floor beneath, was warning enough not to venture closer. I decided to exit the house and with a sigh of relief, understanding fully well the fence that surrounds its perimeter.