The House

You approach the house. The paint is chipped and flaking, a metahphor for your family or some such thing, no doubt, much like the withered plant drooping over the terracotta pot on the stoop. The windows are boarded up and the door is firmly locked.

You see a well to the west of the house.

You see a shed to the right.

Check under the pot…
Walk to the well…
Walk to the shed…