I look at the crumbling facade that used to be a home. Among the dusty remains and rat excrement are the reminders of my childhood. Could the key be here?
There’s nothing left in the attic except a deflated balloon animal from the fair many moons ago. What was it ? A cat? No, it was a dog, I remember now…the cute button nose ..what a joy … until it slowly shrank as the air escaped. I never understood why the air wanted to escape. Why would it go from being part of something to nothing? Could the key really be here?
— end —
This is my rusty story after a long break from writing. This picture reminded me of a three-story house that my colleagues and I recently volunteered to clean up. The house belonged to a church and it’s ex- pastor’s family lived there for decades. The house was crammed with stuff, some useful, mostly junk…even empty cat litter boxes were saved in the attic. In a crack in the floorboards in the attic as we passed the junk down from person to person all the way to the dumpster , I saw a small ornate key. Before I could take it out someone accidently dumped some kitty litter into the crack and the key was hidden. I guess this is how things disappear.
This 100 word story was written for the 100 word photo challenge. More details about this challenge can be found at:
PHOTO PROMPT © Claire Fuller
Click on the Froggy below for other amazing takes on the same prompt by fellow “Friday Fictioneers.”
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