A thin blanket of snow had fallen and it crunched softly as you stepped out of your car, taking a look at the place you now called home. Turning to look around the neighborhood , you spotted a man standing in his drive across the street with a mug of what looked to be coffee and his morning paper tucked under his arm. He huffed a chuckle to himself, the puff of his breath visible in the cool air. He gave you a week before you gave up just like everyone else who tried to take this house on.