We sat, truck idling, windshield wipers flapping, watching in horror and fascination as the big machine went to take yet another bite of out of our old house.
There it all was.
The expanding road that forced the move, and the remains of our first house. It’s paltry insulation rests among the shingles we put on ourselves. The front door that never closed well enough to lock properly falls out the side as my favorite red shutters fall off the front. The bay window still stands as the remaining peony gets crushed under the mess. An un-grounded kitchen outlet lays exposed as my handmade curtains hide just beyond the window.
That was this morning. Tonight, it’s gone.
Nothing but memories now.