dailyprompt-2049

Anita’s Dream House

/ animar64 / 3 Comments
My dream house worries people.
Nobody is ever sure if anyone lives there now, but they are very sure that a few people have given up the ghost in the attic or the basement and the evidence is buried in the garden out back ( if you care to go digging for it- or should I say them ).
Sometimes people pay money to visit my dream house- they take tours and stand in the front yard and tell stories about it and when they’re done some brave and jaded souls will  tell each other, ” that’s not so scary ” in a dull listless monotone with their chins in the air as they try, very hard to stroll nonchalantly back to their tour vans.

Howard Pyle – The Haunted House (c.1904).

My dream house haunts my dreams and I think it might haunt yours too- at least I hope it does.

Out Of Time

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WP Prompt: What does your ideal home look like?

Photographer Unknown

 

When your life has been nuked and burned to the ground like mine has, you do wonder

what has  happened to that home you wanted to have.

 

Every once and awhile I wonder,  what happened to that house? Who moved into it

when I gave up on  ever wanting to  have a  home to call my own? Was it ever built? Did

it burn to the  ground?   Was  it abandoned? What color is it?

I would have painted it gray.

 

Did  the people living in the house I dreamed about  growing old  in  plant a garden in

the backyard – a  messy hodgepodge of Sunflowers and pumpkins  and corn? Did they

plant  a wild herb  garden in the front yard and do black cats sun

themselves on the walkway from noon to twilight?

 

I wonder what happened to that house I could have been living in, the house I should

have found  by happy accident before the darkness settled into my heart and my soul

and turned every hope I ever had to dust.

 

I think there is a chance that sometimes the people living in that house think it’s

haunted- sometimes they feel sad for no reason, or black noxious clouds of anger

gather around them  when the Sun is shining and the sky is blue and the air is filled with

the sounds of singing birds and lawn mowers and sprinklers gently feed sweet smelling

green lawns.

 

Ina way they are right. I haunt that house from time to time and it haunts me too.

Abandoned Dust Bowl Home, Dorothea Lange (American, 1895 – 1965), about 1935 – 1940,