Short Story: An Ordinary House
Genre: fantasy, mystery?
At a cursory glance, the house looks like a plain, ordinary house. Two stories, like the rest of the neighbourhood, and a clean garden with just enough plants to not look empty.
Go closer, however, and one will see that there is a pattern to the plants, and the white wall is not as blank as first perceived. Faint shadows cover the wall that, if one looks long enough, might look a little like words.
The door has no doorknob. It is not a true door that can be opened. It is just a facade for the house to blend into the neighbourhood.
If one can enter, however, one would see that the two-story house is actually one big, empty room, with four white walls capped by a white floor at the bottom and a white ceiling on top.
Look closer once more, and one will see that all six surfaces are made up of tiles of different shapes and sizes, all arranged to produce a feather-light pattern.
And if one looks, really looks, one might see the faintest shadow of a giant creature, slumbering on the floor.
But the whole point of the house is to go unnoticed. And it does that very well. So the creature continues to slumber, and the house remains, to the cursory glance, and ordinary house.