Despair

The windows were closed, cracks covered with black tape, old newspaper stuffed wherever cold might seep through, albeit irrelevant since any insulation that might once have filled the space behind the walls had long since rotted away or been nibbled by desperate rodents, ancestors of the skinny shadow slowly creeping towards the only source of warmth in the room: a wriggling bundle whimpering pitifully for warm hands that might hug and hold it close to breasts that might nourish the body, a loving heart to nurture the soul. Alas, a hopeless wish, as long nails and sharp teeth caused the soft cry to crescendo, briefly, before the silence was marred only by hungry desperate gnawing and chewing of a satisfied beast.