Welcome to Gray House.
The giant front door is gray-washed wood splintering along cracks in the plane of its face. The silver knob is loose, and gently, it turns in our hands. The front door of the House gives with a popping and creaking so loud, it's as if it's never been opened before now. The light from within is a bath as dim as it is warm.
The Foyer of the House is flanked by a set of grandly sweeping spiral stairs on either side of the entryway that leads into a formal sitting room inside which a television is playing Golden Girls reruns on mute. Bea Arthur's face scrunches sour at the expense of Betty White, splashing soft blue light on the walls to the familiar sound of clanging pots from the kitchen beyond.
The interior of this floor of the House is dressed in the drab paint of an undecided shade, and the floors are splintered and worn of their whitewash in footpaths connecting each doorway and archway. The air within smells like cooking oil embedded into damp wood, something herbaceous lurking beneath the tattered fabrics of the House's original furniture, never reupholstered. The light from the inconspicuously placed lamps is dusty and cloyed with the feel of old money and older secrets.
Most Recently in Gray House
We have begun an overhaul of our design and content to reflect a more refined approach to Gray House. We hope you enjoy.
Around The Clock
A small closet beneath the stairs is standing open, the contents strewn carelessly across the floor of the otherwise impressive entrance. Old board games, umbrellas, a bicycle, a set of shackles, stacks of antique pornographic magazines, a box of pixie stix, and a plastic gallon of unspecified liquid.
Featured
Clyde gives Evelyn the part of himself that is an ancient buffalo responsible for making the world turn.