Friday, December 16, 2011

deja vu blogfest

moving day

   The sign was stark white, bleached and faded by the long summer, the grass beneath it dry and brown. Sitting there in front of the porch it reminded him of a flag, the sort someone who wished to surrender might wave frantically at the approaching enemy.
   He would've liked to surrender, if such a thing was possible. He would've liked to say, thank-you, yes, I give up. Perhaps then someone would pull the knife from his chest.
   But it wasn't the house he would miss most. Eventually he would forget the pattern of the kitchen tiles and the loose board in the pantry. He would not wonder why they had never changed the wallpaper in the dining room. The comforting creaks of the place would become a distant memory. All these things would cease to mean much given time.
   It was the barn he would miss.
   He had loved the barn.
   He had loved the way it smelled, of hay and oats and cow and manure. Sometimes he liked to step inside for no other reason than to smell the barn, breathe in the deep, rich smell of it. Sometimes he caught just a whiff of it walking by. It was a comforting smell, a familiar smell that said home.
   He loved the way it looked, both inside and out. The oldness of it, the way it had been made by the hands of his ancestors, the ripple in one particular row of shingles. Inside the creaking boards spoke of experience. The dust that lay over things forgotten - a gun chest, a set of hubcaps, a rusty scythe hanging - reminded him of how many had simply left a part of themselves behind, in the barn.
   The stalls were empty now, the line of cows a ghostly image in his mind's eye. Like the vision of himself hunched over a milk pail, just the two of them in the dark of the morning.
   If he could just grasp back one of those days, see one of those sleepy smiles again, feel the soft touch of a hand half the size of his own, just once more...
   He shook his head.
   It was done, he thought, pulling the sign up from the ground, turning away, closing his mind to the sight of the barn sitting there with the doors wide open and welcoming.
   He could not look at it without feeling his heart break.

26 comments:

  1. Lovely, Marcy. It made me heart hurt to read this.

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  2. Oh, how sad. You do a wonderful job capturing the bleakness of leaving a beloved place, and the past, behind. Great choice for the Deja Vu. (Makes me kinda sorry I wrote a new post today.)

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  3. This piece gave this city girl a new found liking for a good old country barn.

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  4. That is so sad. :( Great Deja Vu choice, though.

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  5. Awwwwww very poignant - lovely! Take care
    x

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  6. Hello! I'm a new follower from the DejaVu Blogfest. Nice to meet you!

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  7. What a beautiful post! I felt like I was right there in the barn with him. So sad!

    Thanks for participating in the blogfest!

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  8. What a beautiful piece! It broke my heart to read it, so touching.

    I've just discovered your blog through the Deja Vu fest, it's great to meet you!

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  9. i feel his aching heart! =(

    great replay!

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  10. Oh! So sad. Wonderfully done.

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  11. What a moving piece! Thanks for sharing!

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  12. Such a touching story!!
    I'm stopping by from the blogfest, nice to meet you!

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  13. Wow, excellent writing! Definitely following you! Nice to find you through Deja Vu! I'm number 33.

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  14. Your writing is beautiful! So nice to meet you through this wonderful blogfest. I love the photo in your header!

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  15. Kind of like watching your child graduate...

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  16. Nice imagery - I never thought I'd feel nostalgic over a barn and I'm in Iowa! ;)

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  17. So sad. Beautiful and powerful. :)

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  18. I wrote a post about setting just this week, arguing that it's not the details of setting, but the emotions the characters have about the setting that are important and make the place come alive for the reader. Great post! That's why I'm a new follower.

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  19. Elicits a feeling of melancholy. Beautiful writing indeed! Thank you for sharing it with us for this blogfest! :)

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  20. Wonderful details! This is well written and pulled at me, drew me in, made me sad. It was all so real.

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  21. Wonderfully well written.

    Nice to meet you via the blogfest.

    Robyn

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  22. stirs the emotions... you know fresh is good but still you wallow in the past. beautifully written.

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  23. Beautiful and sad...
    Very well written as well!

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