On a set of steps, inside an unfinished building, a rugged young man leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. A vibrant sunbeam flooded through the open roof, giving him an angelic appearance. So deep his thoughts, they appeared to draw him into a world forbidden to all but him. A flicker, a promise of a smile, softened one corner of his lips and sparkle lit his eyes. Then as sudden as they happened, they disappeared. He leaned back, breaking the moment, lifted his cap and ran his fingers through his thick curly hair. The moment fled. The spell broke. He reached for a hammer as if his secret retreat never took place.

Forgotten but not gone

Time came with the wind. Came with the rain and snow, the heat and cold. It battered against my log frame. It ate at the plaster that kept out the cold. As the ground beneath me shifted, my walls cracked with the strain, but I remained upright, a protection for my inhabitants.
With love, they painted my window frames and hung a strong door to keep out the elements. They filled me with the nicest furnishing they could afford. Then children came. Their laughter filled every nook and cranny within my walls, and I sang with them. Around me, cattle lowed and sheep bleated. Farm machinery hummed from spring to fall and rested through the snow.
Over the years, my first inhabitant’s hair turned gray. Their steps became a little feebler each day. The children grew and one by one went away. Then a day I hadn’t seen coming arrived. A yellow sign appeared in front of me, and shortly thereafter, the now old couple left and the sign came down.
Slowly, the hinges holding up my door pulled away from the frame, and eventually the door collapsed. Stones hit my windows, shattering them. Rain and snow hurled through my open doorway, rotting my foundation. But who is there to care? Will anyone bring laughter back to me? If you will, come right on in. Make me sing again, and I have a lifetime of stories I’ll share with you.

Sometimes the biggest blessings are the smallest things.
When my Scrappy died, I couldn't even think of getting another kitty, almost like I'd be betraying him.
Then a couple weeks ago, several unusual events happened that caused strangers to bring me a precious gift.
Sebastian just waltzed into my home and stole my heart. Now, I have a new best friend.

The Old Lady

The summer sun slipped behind the tall brown fence, taking away its warmth. The old lady looked off into the distance, wondering as she did every day at this time. Would the sun rise for her again tomorrow? If it did, what would it bring? More waiting? Waiting for someone to get her out of bed. Waiting to have done what she always did for herself. Waiting to eat. And begging. Begging drove her crazy. How had life come to this? Begging for a tissue to wipe her nose. Begging for a bit more sugar in her coffee. And begging to go outside, to one of her children’s homes. To hear the little ones scream with laughter, to watch the teenagers, shyly put their arms around each other.
She remembered her own first love and warmth flowed through her ancient, veins. Had it been that long? It seemed like yesterday. Her wedding, then the children coming, and growing up, the grandchildren, then the great grandchildren. They floated across her lifetime bringing her back to her wheelchair, a cup of coffee, a bowl of cookies and a dish of fresh, ripe raspberries. Treats she’d never get in the nursing home.
Soon she’d have them eaten, and it would be time to return to the begging and waiting. But she felt better now. The outing to her daughter’s home had rekindled her dreams. Maybe tomorrow, the sun wouldn't rise for her and she’d wake up in that promised land far beyond the clouds.

Tears stream down my cheeks forming in glistening puddles on the keys my keyboard. My grief escapes in hacking sobs. Why? I ask over and over again. Scrappy was a rare treasure, my friend, my comfort in trying situations, my baby after my children left. And now he is no more, because someone needed to prove they were big behind a steering wheel, and made him their target. Because of their need, emptiness haunts my home, reminding me my companion is gone forever.

Inevitable

Cold, white, and blue, filled my world, freezing my breath and turning it into miniature clouds. Crisp, drifted snow crunched beneath my feet, and an indifferent sun shone down, reflecting off the winter blanket blinding me. Still, I trudged on.
At the edge of my vision, a lone wolf slunk into the trees. Hunger griped the mangy creature, shrinking it’s flanks. He’d reappear behind me, and pounce, extinguishing his remaining fuel. Only one would continue, victorious, the other, sinking into a warm, uninterrupted sleep.
A north wind arose and lifted my fur, exposing my tender pink skin. I leapt forward, landing beside a leafless willow. I took a moment to gnaw on the frozen bark, refueling my dwindling strength.
Refreshed, I moved on. An uprooted tree lay across my trail. Its heavy trunk felled smaller trees, creating a refuge. I hopped beneath the branches and needle-free bows, waiting, wondering if the sun would rise again.
The wolf approached, his sides heaving, saliva dripping from his open mouth. He sniffed the ground around my sanctuary, pawed at the snow, but the trees kept me safe. Exhausted, he crumpled to the frozen ground. Darkness drove the light away and I closed my eyes. I’d sleep a little and continue on when a new sun arose.
The seasons changed and a bright spring sun caressed the frozen land. Beside a pile of rotting trees, a lone gray wolf hid his nose beneath his flank and slept the eternal sleep. Under the rotting trees, huddled a snow-white jackrabbit, its eyes closed, its trembling nose stilled.
A thin, brown grizzly stretched his massive body, yawned, then, sluggishly, climbed from his lair beneath an uprooted tree. He glanced around in search of food.