Rain runs in rivulets down the stone, inveigling its way into the crevices, taking up residence in the blocked gutters and feeding the moss that grows in the cracks between. Sun dries the window sills and bakes the paint to grey-white splinters that flake leaving the wood to swell and warp. Wind lifts the slates making holes for the snow to gather in drifts along the rafters. Rot and decay invade the space inside, mould takes hold in the plaster that crumbles from the walls and fallen leaves cluster in the doorways. Nature reclaims.
(Apologies for lateness, we've been reading.)
(Words for my flash fiction A to Z supplied spontaneously by Monkey.)
(Linking back to the A to Z challenge)