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A Place That Never ForgetsA Place That Never ForgetsA Place That Never Forgets by =StevenKauk
This place is to me a lonely ocean. Its fields are like open waters, tall grass like waves on a breeze, white-capped with litter washing on the shore of the stable floor. Its boards are rot with neglect and creak with tired sighs. Once a chorus of sounds, the nicker and whinny of horses, the baying of goats, the cluck of chickens; now it rings with silence, it hurts my ears, that nothing can be heard there. The tack room door hangs from it's hinge, painting the face of merciless time. Through the door, an empty room filled only with cobwebs and dark shadows. Above, a fan blade hangs bent, disrupting the symmetry o
A Knock at the Door A Knock at the DoorA Knock at the Door by =StevenKauk
The floorboard gave a painful whine as I made my way down the stairs. The railing clattered loosely on one end, where the nails were falling out. The carpet was damp in spots, like it always seemed to be, though I barely noticed. I had lived there for years, and my room was on the second floor. I traveled these steps often. It wasn't an open stairway, there was a wall closing it on either side. Like a narrow hallway that happened to go upward. At the bottom they would meet the kitchen, and as I made my way off the last step, I met the kitchen as well.
I had been in my room by myself. My brother was in his
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