Day 78 Ruminating And Writing

Fate

The house was cursed from the beginning. It had been built on the sacred, hollow ground. Now, its wood was rotting away under the peeled paint. The grass had grown taller than the hares scattering around. The blinds were shut, and the family still living there would have the same fate as the families before them.

There had been happy moments. Moments when you could believe it all worked out. You could say that it had started beautifully, but then the ground, then the house, gradually ...