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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Experience · #970565
Life story.
It looks so sad now. Been a bar room for the last few years. Before that it was a laundromat. I had friends that schooled there up to the sixth grade or so and then they came to the higher grades at the central school. The bar retained the girl's stairs and the boy's stairs worn concave by the passing of little feet. A for sale sign out front has been waiting a long time.

Out through the countryside are several more of the old schoolhouses converted into homes.One I passed the other day still has the original sign on the front gable. It sets on a back road surrounded by a forest. There are children living there judging by the yard toys.

I would kinda like living in an old schoolhouse. In the quiet of a lonely night one might hear the happy voices of the little children, smell their peanut butter banana lunches. Some of those voices could be grandpa or grandma or might even be mom and dad.

From 'Voyages of the Vicky Mary' Copyright 2005

voyager



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