The old colonial – big as a barn – echoes with children’s shrieks as they claim bedrooms and race along unfamiliar stairways. Wide pine floorboards, working fireplaces, hand planed wainscoting, and out-of-plumb doorways spell character. History and cobwebs blend to infuse the air with dust and dignity.
Outside, a carpet of fermenting pears perfumes the evening air under an ancient Bartlett. Fireflies flutter and wink against a chorus of crickets. The eldest boy walks through new-mown alfalfa, the fresh night, inhaling heady scents of wild roses vaguely tinged with…cow manure.
New house. New life.
Safe now.
rate
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 16
Hi, Jessie! Thank you! It was a fun exercise, and I used my experience when we moved into our old colonial as color. I always felt safe as a child, but I wanted to throw in a twist so readers would be stopped in their tracks and say "Safe? What happened to this boy?"
I'm sure it won't be the only one :)
Okay, so what's th secret? Who do you know?
If you have time, see what you think of the book review I just wrote for A Dirty Business, by Joe Humphrey. I was asked to do this for Dakarna Publishing, a new NYC pub. Very honored to do so, plus it was a fun read. I'd like to see what other mystery fans think of the book, too. Let me know, and I can feed your comments back to the publisher if you'd like!
Thanks again, Charles. And have a great Sunday.
Hey, John! ;o)
Come, Hulk, follow puny human woman!