General Non-Fiction posted December 9, 2017

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My old home, where I was raised, disappeared.

House of the Empty Heart

by brenda faye curtis

I remember what the house looked like when Mom was alive. It was animated, enriched with warmth, soft light and memories so close you could touch them. Each object on every shelf held a story, a collection that contained fifty years of family history. Mom gathered them, arranged and displayed them and shared the lore with all who came to our home, ensuring the durability of our family's story.

And when she died, you came, armed with ammonia and lemon polish, to scrub away every trace of her. You tore down the collection of memorabilia and replaced her essence with a photo gallery of contrived images that tell no truth.

The man who now lives in this house of lies reviews the photos daily, and, if there's not too much light shining in the windows, he can almost believe that's who she was. He can almost believe this is home.

I sincerely hope he doesn't know any better.

I Remember writing prompt entry
Writing Prompt
Begin your non-fiction autobiographical story or poem with the words 'I remember...' Complete the sentence conveying a moment, an object, a feeling, etc. This does not have to be a profound memory, but should allow readers insight into your feelings, observations and/or thoughts. Use at least 100, but not more than 1,000 words. The count should be stated in your author notes.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by Paul G. at

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