A Ghost Story
It’s Tuesday. I’m exhausted. I’m in pain because I did something to my back over the weekend while enjoying a mini vacation in North Carolina. But I’m happy. I’m joyful. And I’m able to see the beauty in all the little things around me. Like the heating pad against my back right now. It’s lovely. And warm.
I wrote this on the plane flying over the mid-west, thinking of all the time passed, the family I was coming home to, and the girl I used to be.
The stairs creaked as she shifted her weight from one to another. They lead her to a place she hadn’t seen since childhood. Once her feet landed on the top step, she looked down behind her, imagining the old wood hidden under worn red carpet. She wondered if nails were popped, causing the creaking sounds, or if the wood was rotting in the…
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