Posted in Life and After

Abandoned

I looked at it from my late father’s eyes and I was instantly horrified.

The walls that once lovingly sheltered many generations were now infiltrated with creepers. Mould grew on the limestone paint. Holes appeared between the rocks where elements had eroded the mortar that held it all together.

The years of neglect had taken a toll.

The door still had the hole for the cat my late grandmother once had. I wondered whether any of her progeny still lived here or if they, too, had abandoned the house of my ancestors.

I pushed the door to open it but it resisted as if I wasn’t welcome. So, I pushed with all my might and the door creaked open hanging on its hinges limply, resigned at its inability to save the crumbling house’s honor from the prying eyes of the traitor–the one who had left it behind to find a better life elsewhere.

The roof that kept me and mine under its protection from sun and gale for a hundred years had finally caved in, smashing every last memory of my childhood underneath. The last reminder of my past was now past saving.


Photo by Enovate Studio on Unsplash

Author:

I am an Instructional Designer, avid reader, small-town woman and working mother with a fish-eye perspective. I have just published my first book, The Forest Bed and other short stories. If you like my stories on this blog, feel free to Like, Comment, Reblog and Share. You can reach me at shailygrwl@gmail.com or through my Facebook page facebook.com/shailyagrawalwrites/

7 thoughts on “Abandoned

    1. India has a joint family system and traditionally many generations of children grew together in one home as a close-knit family and helped in the farm. Now, with people moving to cities to find better jobs, these old homes are abandoned. 😦

      Like

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