As the bearded man left the room, giving up his search and losing all hope, the house was still empty and slightly colder than the room. Being in the state the man was, he almost couldn’t recognize the house outside the room, but he kept walking. Walking outside through the front door.
When he got in his rusty car, his since over 20 years and the wear visible by the dried cracked rubber around the car doors and several patches to hide spots where the rust ate through the car’s chassis, he got in via the car’s right hand door. The door to the left had a different colour than the car itself (light brushed-worn-yellow whereas the car once was a bordoux-red) and didn’t really fit the car anyway, hence it didn’t open without a fight, a fight the man could not handle at this time. He slowly moved behind the wheel and started the old car. He turned the wheel and the sound of gravel and leaves under his turning front wheels and the engine revving to leave the premises were the last sound the house heard. A search over and lost. The man drove off never to be seen again. The man lost.