I always wanted to visit was on, but never did. It was old and resembled the house in my mother’s photos from her childhood. I never stopped, no matter how many times I passed though.
I wanted to find truth about her past and thought it might hold the key to unders tanding who the woman I called Mom used to be. I had to believe something happened to make her the way she was. But I was afraid of what that house might tell me. The unknown truth held more fear than any of my memories.
I continued driving farther out to a ghost town that formed after a factory closed. No one had lived there for at least twenty years and every time I step foot in it I imagine how it was when people were here. They lived, died, and fell in love in this town and then abandoned it. Their stories are now part of the rubble, drifting further into memory.
I walked into the town’s bar and looked across the debris that remained. The entire bar was still intact, but time chipped away at it. Glass from broken windows and bottles littered the ground. The light shone in just right and the contrast with the decay created an eerie shadow. I connected with these places. Forgotten, broken, and torn, I understood these buildings. They were my lifelong friends, the places where I could drop my walls. I never fought the past here.
I sound crazy. My rational mind understands that I should connect with people and not buildings. But history keeps me from trusting people and their stupidity in general reminds me why these decaying buildings are better company. Despite their rubble, they are more dependable than people.
My phone rang as I was leaning to take a photo of a bottle near one of the colored window panes. I ignored it because I wanted to make sure I got the shot I needed. I took several photos before my phone rang again and in frustration I set my camera onto a table to answer it.
“Yeah.”
“Well, hello to you to, man. Did you get my text?” Blake asked as I put my phone under my ear and walked toward the back storeroom, lifting my camera to take photos.
“Yeah, I got it .” I didn’t want to talk on the phone right now, or hear about Blake’s late night conquests. But Blake wanted to, so I tried to make sure my annoyance was heard.
“Okay. So I wanted to hear any questions you might have with my text. And well it being the date, I wanted to check on you. You know with today’s date,” he spoke with hesitation as if he were afraid I was going to flip out.
“Thanks for reminding me. I successfully blocked the date from my mind until you mentioned it .” I didn’t mask my sarcasm.
“Yeah right d ude, we’ve been friends since we shit ourselves. I know you,” he sighed into the phone. “Don’t you want to hear how my night went after you left Friday?” He always shifted the conversation when the topic arose about the date and I appreciated him for it. I didn’t want to talk of today’s date.
“Not really ,” I said as I looked around the storeroom, taking the occasional close up photo of broken bottles and empty boxes. He could keep his night to himself, especially the moments that included the girl.
“Well, as I said, I met that chick you’ve been stalking. Her name is Hannah and she was cool. I didn’t talk to her much, but I ended up going back to her apartment .” He paused for a moment and I took a deep breath waiting for what he might say next. “Okay, nothing happened. I wanted to get your reaction and judge you,” he said on a laugh. "You tried to pretend you don’t care. But the fact that you sounded like someone punched you says otherwise. In all seriousness, I went back with Gabe and the other couple, so it wasn’t as if I went back to her apartment, you know."
Her name is Hannah .
“Why would it matter if you did?” I lifted a stepladder from the rubble and setting it upright I positioned it in the middle of the room. Hannah . Her name kept repeating in my mind as I lifted my camera to photograph
I wanted to find truth about her past and thought it might hold the key to unders tanding who the woman I called Mom used to be. I had to believe something happened to make her the way she was. But I was afraid of what that house might tell me. The unknown truth held more fear than any of my memories.
I continued driving farther out to a ghost town that formed after a factory closed. No one had lived there for at least twenty years and every time I step foot in it I imagine how it was when people were here. They lived, died, and fell in love in this town and then abandoned it. Their stories are now part of the rubble, drifting further into memory.
I walked into the town’s bar and looked across the debris that remained. The entire bar was still intact, but time chipped away at it. Glass from broken windows and bottles littered the ground. The light shone in just right and the contrast with the decay created an eerie shadow. I connected with these places. Forgotten, broken, and torn, I understood these buildings. They were my lifelong friends, the places where I could drop my walls. I never fought the past here.
I sound crazy. My rational mind understands that I should connect with people and not buildings. But history keeps me from trusting people and their stupidity in general reminds me why these decaying buildings are better company. Despite their rubble, they are more dependable than people.
My phone rang as I was leaning to take a photo of a bottle near one of the colored window panes. I ignored it because I wanted to make sure I got the shot I needed. I took several photos before my phone rang again and in frustration I set my camera onto a table to answer it.
“Yeah.”
“Well, hello to you to, man. Did you get my text?” Blake asked as I put my phone under my ear and walked toward the back storeroom, lifting my camera to take photos.
“Yeah, I got it .” I didn’t want to talk on the phone right now, or hear about Blake’s late night conquests. But Blake wanted to, so I tried to make sure my annoyance was heard.
“Okay. So I wanted to hear any questions you might have with my text. And well it being the date, I wanted to check on you. You know with today’s date,” he spoke with hesitation as if he were afraid I was going to flip out.
“Thanks for reminding me. I successfully blocked the date from my mind until you mentioned it .” I didn’t mask my sarcasm.
“Yeah right d ude, we’ve been friends since we shit ourselves. I know you,” he sighed into the phone. “Don’t you want to hear how my night went after you left Friday?” He always shifted the conversation when the topic arose about the date and I appreciated him for it. I didn’t want to talk of today’s date.
“Not really ,” I said as I looked around the storeroom, taking the occasional close up photo of broken bottles and empty boxes. He could keep his night to himself, especially the moments that included the girl.
“Well, as I said, I met that chick you’ve been stalking. Her name is Hannah and she was cool. I didn’t talk to her much, but I ended up going back to her apartment .” He paused for a moment and I took a deep breath waiting for what he might say next. “Okay, nothing happened. I wanted to get your reaction and judge you,” he said on a laugh. "You tried to pretend you don’t care. But the fact that you sounded like someone punched you says otherwise. In all seriousness, I went back with Gabe and the other couple, so it wasn’t as if I went back to her apartment, you know."
Her name is Hannah .
“Why would it matter if you did?” I lifted a stepladder from the rubble and setting it upright I positioned it in the middle of the room. Hannah . Her name kept repeating in my mind as I lifted my camera to photograph
Similar Books
