Write a four line poem about: the face in the window.
Just sneaking off to get this written. I can hear that Max is still having a blast, perhaps even more so now that he's got some chocolate brownie in him.
More tomorrow, but for now I shall get on with the prompt.
The house next door is empty,
They say it's been that way for years.
I'm afraid to call them liars,
But I have more pressing fears...