The lonely widower broke into abandoned houses. Careful overnight work pulled lines of wallpaper down whole. Safely home, he hung them up and rested his forehead against them—breathing memories of crayon scribbles, the height charts of those who’d grown, and frames of lost portraits burned by the fading sun.
Mark Farley writes novels, flash fiction and the occasional poem.
A little creepy but mostly sad. Some of it smells like cigarettes to me.
And they are all empty too. He’s stealing what’s left behind, unwanted/unneeded. Not to mention it sounds as though his neighborhood is emptying and he won’t sell. Profoundly lonely–you didn’t need the adjective in the first line. Such a great last line.
This sure tugs on me. Great imagery! I agree the adjective in the first line is unnecessary.
moving well done.. wow
amazing..well said, touching, great job
Well done. Such a unique approach for the subject matter.