Bill's Exit

I made this one night in a couple of days (if not the same night) of my Grandfather's passing near xmas some years ago. The segment below is just a free-writing thing I do every once in awhile. I thought it complemented the song well and I wanted to honor him since it's that time of year.
Celebrate one's Life! Not mourn their Death!

Bill trampled through the door. He could see a mound of dirty laundry in front of it;
like a blockade. Why and how it was still there didn't make sense,
but he needed his box and he knew the keep-safe would be protected from the fire.
It looked like it started from the radio; that old radio in the living room. He remembered sitting in front of it; a young boy with his older brother, younger sister, mother and father; all of them more in amazement from the new technology than what was playing, it seemed. Two houses later; two lifetimes later... but on he went upstairs weaving through the patches of black crust and the Untouched; brown carpet and pieces of furniture; the yellow walls from smoking cigarettes over time; and in the living room; soot-made shadows in his peripheral vision that seemed to say "we've taken over now, this is our home." It all looked more like a plague of mold had consumed neglected space over time. Barely any of this mattered though. The radio had its time, but his keep-safe... and then he realized the framed photographs on the way up; 3 generations. They were faded of course, but the pictures were fine... and they did matter; he was welling.