I'm participating again in Ivy's Six Sentence Stories. This week's prompt: close.
The old house had only been her home for four years, but life there seemed richer, as if the memories of the house had combined with her own and sunk deep into her soul. Little birds had built nests in the hanging baskets of flowers on the porch--the porch that her husband had built a cute railing for, with heart cut-outs in the beams. The garden had grown lush and green, and the cherry tree yielded hundreds of quarts of blushed-yellow fruit each year. The creek provided a playground for her children, and the friendly grandma across the street always had a ready smile.
And now, after the movers had come and packed everything into a big truck, the rooms were barren. She stepped over the threshold for the last time, and with tears in her eyes, closed the door.
Thanks for homes, and memories.