This Old House

I’ve got a few orders of business to take care of before I get to the story.

1st – like my new header (^ up there)? I figured it was time for a change. That’s what I came up with.

2nd – I have a fairly new facebook page. If you like my stories why not “like” me on facebook? The button is right over there ->

Okay, now on to the real reason you’re all here.

I’ve decided to step away from horror this week. I actually wrote a couple stories, but this is the only one that made the cut. I hope you guys (and girls) like it.

As always, thanks go out to Madison Woods for the photo prompt and the Friday Fictioneers for reading my ramblings.

This Old House

I remember a time when my grandmother’s house wasn’t crumbling around me. Those days are long gone. All that remains of her once immaculate home is this rotting husk that could collapse behind the gentle breeze of a gnat’s wings. Why I’m standing here, I don’t know. Maybe it’s guilt that brings me back. Maybe it’s love. Probably some of both. It wasn’t always this way. She’d been dead for a long time before I came back. I just couldn’t bear the memories. She trusted me to care for her home, but all I gave it was neglect. Sorry, Gram.

32 responses to “This Old House

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