A fairly large red brick detached house sitting beside a quiet road lies empty, long abandoned. With generous gardens front and rear and farm barns, this was probably a farmhouse once upon a time, however the last occupant was actually a postman. How long the house has been abandoned for is anyone's guess but from documents still inside I'd guess around 20 years or so.

Missing windows with torn curtains catching the breeze like flags welcoming me in on a chilly morning. A quick look around and the house was deemed safe and so the images were captured and a good look through a plethora of diaries left in a downstairs room from the 1920's to the 1960's. Fascinating reading yearly slots of people's lives and what their days entailed. The stairs leading to the cellar were littered with hundreds of bills and receipts, too much to look through properly but a reminder that this was once a house full of the daily rituals of life.

The kitchen still boasted a large range oven, with jars of food still inside the cupboards albeit rusting and years out of date. In the lounge a piano, still in good condition with sheet music still placed as if the owner would arrive at any point and start playing again. 

In a back room downstairs were strewn hundreds of old books, covered in mold and damp yet a hint to an avid reader once living here. 

Upstairs the floors were still intact and safe to walk on and bits and pieces lay around. A cheque written out to someone still on top of the mantle piece in one of the bedrooms. Uncashed and forgotten. 

I could imagine this house being renovated quite easily, as apart from broken windows and looking dated it is still in good condition which makes me wonder why it was abandoned in the first place. Cars go past every few minutes and the occupants glance over at this encapsulating house then they disappear. Seems no one wants to take ownership, or maybe no one is left alive from the family tree.