The abandoned cabin seems to shiver in the cool autumn mist.
The boughs of neighboring trees, which kept it company all
summer, are growing bare. Leaves drop with each gentle breeze. They provide a
little comfort by collecting at the base of the cracked stone foundation. It’s all
the trees can do for their aging friend, a meager attempt to bolster it through
the coming winter storms.
As I pass by, I wish I could help even as much as the
trees. I step onto the porch and run my hand along the worn wood of the support
posts. Flecks of paint stick to my skin, clammy in the damp air. A promise to
return and pay kindly visits is all I can offer, but that seems enough for my
dear friend.
A ray of sun peeks through the clouds, and the old cottage
shines at me with a glint of its former vigor.
2 comments:
That's a haunting photo. Interesting story series. I love the title "Tea Leaf Tales." :)
Thanks, Denise! I have fun letting my imagination wander with these stories. Glad you stopped by.
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