The clicking of keyboard keys was echoing off the walls. Flourescent lights flutter uncertainly as if they would rather give up the fight than continue to burn. Stale warm air tumbled from the ceiling vents attempting to push the chill of the season back through the crack under the door.

The room was small, by any standard of home office. It had once been a sad closet, for nothing ever hung in it. The previous gods of the house had no use for it.

A new god now inhabited this space. It had gone about surgically removing walls and inserting odd bits of electrical veins for, only the god knew what.

One day the god decided the cramped space of the closet would make a great office space. The house made no sense of the god’s actions but sat, as a good patient would, and allowed him to manipulate its very being.

There would never be the sound of babies crying and children playing. Nor would there be scents of baked goods wafting through the vents. No, the house understood fully. Time had moved on.