For want of a name!

“The silence around the house is so complete, it is deafening. The proverbial pin dropping would sound like a grenade going off. Suddenly the sound of a door slamming, and screech of tires as the car speeds off, blows the tranquility to smithereens. But just as fast, the calm settles down once again like a heavy curtain settling down. After the brief pause highlighted by the fast diminishing roar of the car, the high heels click rhythmically on the cement pathway as they make their way to the door, oblivious of the havoc being wrecked on the placidity of the place. A break in the clicking rhythm amplifies the soft sound of contents in the handbag being moved around. An all too loud and all too brief jangle of keys followed by the soft whisper of the levers in the lock tumbling are just the harbinger to the devastation of the surrounding stillness by the almighty creaking as the door is pushed wide open. The totality of the darkness emanating from the bowels of the house matches the calm around it sending the first shiver down the shapely spine standing in the open doorway. With the first beads of sweat brushed away and the knot of fear forming in the gut ignored, the high heel raises to take the first step into the abyss look alike and..........”

Confession time. I don't have an imagination. There is something else up there where imagination is found in most humans. Am not sure what it is and even the doctors have failed to identify it. So I have stretched my lack of imagination to the maximum (and then some) to come up with....with... what would you call what you just read? I will tell you this much. After some hard work (I thought. Hard!) I started writing a story, which looked like turning into a screen play and finally ended up being that thing that you have read. Call it whatever you want.