Summer Vacation

By Acabashi (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia CommonsDust puffs up with each step I take. The rough wooden planks of the little building, held in place by thick, iron nails, creak and groan. In some places I see all the way to the dirt foundation through wide spaces between the boards. An oil painting, obviously done by someone with more passion than talent, fills the wall above a skillfully crafted rocking chair.

I step carefully over to the four-paneled windown. The glass filling each square would have been quite the luxury when this house was erected. I stare through the grimy panels and grimace at the herd of thin, moaning cows outside.

Adam, my kid brother, stomps into the room, his feet echoing loudly against the ancient flooring. He moves around the room touching everything, leaving fingerprints, bumping relics from their long-held positions. I follow in his wake, adjusting, setting, removing as much of his presence from this place as possible.

*6/28/17 prompt – the ugliest picture I’d ever seen, cows, a wooden chair

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