Monday, February 24, 2014

Day 51: The Empty House

So many memories for just a few years. I can see them, dancing around the floors of the empty house. Cardboard boxes, random items, tape, and hangers are scattered around the carpet now. But I can still see them past all the physical things. I remember guests we had over for dinner, an intimate Thanksgiving for four, and the hustle and bustle before a wedding.

How many other people, who have lived in this very spot, have memories associated with this place? Do they think about it often in fondness? Or have they forgotten as their lives have continued on, past the little townhouse above a lake in Georgia? I don't think I'll ever forget our first place. Above the lake, where our dreams and physical items collided.

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