For Old Times

 

She’d see it on her way to school. A shell of itself.

A bit like her it was, she felt. Unprotected. Exposed to the elements.

Years later she returned to do her duty by those who birthed her. She took a walk, eager to escape the cloying empathy of people who knew exactly why she’d left. She saw it. Still a shell. But now a possibility.

“I’ll build you up,” she said. And did.

The thick walls welcomed her, insulating. The roof salvaged old beams into current protection.

A home at last. For old times sake. For new beginnings.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Susan Rouchard

 

 

32 thoughts on “For Old Times

    • Thank you, Anita.
      Sometimes the sorrows of the past can become an anchor to build a future from. Not as a way to make what happened, okay; but as a way to know who one is and why and where one sees their life. 🙂

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    • Exactly! You know how some homes you walk into and you are like “nope, no way” and then there are those that welcome you like an old friend. We all know that walls have ears, but somehow people ignore the fact that with the ears come hearts, too … 😉

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    • Thank you! Yes, indeed it is also about learning that one cannot change what happened in the past, but one can learn how it impacted who they are and how they are in the world, and learn from it what they can change or grow from, and what they must accept (and possibly grow from).

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