You knock on the door. Nothing happens.

You wait a moment and try again. You hear a cracking sound as if something inside the door snapped and it opens very slightly and sits ajar. The already dark surroundings darken further and reveal that the previously seeming darkness inside the house was not absolute and now seems better lit than the outside world. You turn and observe your surroundings. The street is all shadow with no light anywhere. With your eyes closed it feels like daytime but all appearances betray that concept. No other house has any light and the street is almost pitch dark. A car drives by, unbothered by the darkness, it's headlights are not on. Nothing makes sense.

Turning back to the house, the door is open and the light from inside feels like the only normality in this crazy experience. You enter without hesitating into the house. The inside of the house is banal and minimalist. The corner of each room has an unremarkable lamp that glows enough to create the warm light that you perceived from outside. It's too dark to read a book but the light is enough for you to feel slightly better.

The house is silence manifest. It isn't just that no sound is being emitted, it evokes no feeling or thought. But that changes when you notice the frontdoor is closed. You couldn't even say when that happened because there was never any sound but now you're certain that it became closed and the act of closing did not happen. It was open, then it was closed without a sound. You hold the door handle but gripping it, you immediately feel it is inanimate. Pulling or turning it does nothing. The handle and even the door itself feel inanimate. You push and pull at the door and are left appraising it as a wall with a handle.

You relent. Considering the situation. Your phone indicates it's almost 1PM. There is a window in the next room, the lounge room that reveals pitch darkness outside. You have your phone, it has signal so you can try calling for help.