Cautiously I pick my way thru the wet brush anxious to avoid cat briars, stickers, ticks and who knows what else might be waiting to inflict discomfort on an uneasy trespasser. Edging closer, watching each step, my breath quickens. A spider web snags my cap as I peek thru the front window. Across the living room a closet door stands open inviting my winter coat, or muddy boots or mop and broom. From the side I see a cold brick fireplace with faded green mantle, hearth heaped with ashes from the very last fire and layered with leaves swept thru the gaping roof. Then the voices. I always hear the voices and sounds of home. From the next room, or maybe from upstairs. Everyday voices each of us would recognize, and gladly remember.
© d071022-016 Old House
Edgefield County, South Carolina
Monday 22 October 2007