Silence

Standing on the threshold, I was overwhelmed by the musty smell of water damage, like an old library where the books had been exposed to the elements in stone-walled buildings.  The dust hung in the air, pooling and swirling in the light that filtered through the broken windows.  Stepping into the entryway, the wood gave with a creak and a puff of dust created a tsunami around my feet.  I smiled as the thought, "I'm finally home," entered my mind.  I never imagined that I would be able to afford this large Victorian, with the cracked bay window in the front room, wide hardwood floors, and beautifully stained door frames whose luster had faded as age settled over it.  The silence of the house was deafening.  I could here the dust sifting through the air, the sighs of the house as it relaxed into its new resident, and the rustle of the leaves on the maple tree in the front yard.  I was excited and intimidated by the grandeur of my home.  I had no idea where to start on the clean-up project.