Anybody home?

Two story red brick.

Sometimes, while driving along I will take a picture of a house. Then, later when I download it onto my PC and zoom in and look at it, I will wonder about the house and it's occupants. I am not even sure the above house is occupied. The photo was taken in June of this year. The grass has not been mowed although it isn't completely out of control like a field would be. There are curtains hanging in the windows.

Maybe there are two elderly sisters living there. Puttering around in that big old house with just their memories to keep them company. There is an old television in the corner but neither of them watch it. (Hence the tower antenna).

They have knick knacks galore. One of them may go along and dust them every so often. Picking up an old picture and staring at it for a few minutes. Remembering the old days and wondering where have they gone? Was it really sixty years ago that we used to kick up our heels at that ballroom and kiss the soldiers when they came back from the war?

From the back of one of the pictures an old and yellowed tattered piece of paper will fall out and once again she will read his handwriting. How much he misses her and how lonely it is all the way over there in a foreign land. Fighting for our freedom. He never came home. She carefully re-folds the paper and places it gently back into the picture frame. She reaches for her tissue which is always bunched up in her dress pocket and wipes her eyes. Another place, another time.