They left by the last bus, saddled with debt and memories.
Tomorrow, the repo agents will come to claim the mortgaged house and surrounding land. They will overlook my decaying corpse with roots deeply entrenched in the ground like unclaimed deposits from decades ago.
I’ve gathered history like an unheard rate of interest, and am connected to stories in the underbelly of the deranged township.
But the auctioneers won’t talk about me or the spirit of the house. They will sell the shell to the highest bidder.
Sanity does not live here anymore. Algorithms overrule the simple math of life.
Creative Experiments and More 
truly enjoyed your creative take this week. well done.
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Thank you so much! Glad you liked it.
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There’s still room for soul, we just have to be willing to find it. Perhaps the new owners will look.
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Let’s hope so ❤️❤️
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Unfortunately this is the world we live in!
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This is the only world we know. 🙂
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Such is the world.
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True that. Thank you, James!
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A simple profit and loss balance sheet. So much can’t be written there, yes
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I’d love to sum up a life in the balance sheet and P&K format. Thanks for throwing up the idea! 🤗
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I wouldn’t want to live there.
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Certain places seem cursed.
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Great place to write though
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True 😀😀
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Reena, I’ve read that stones and trees are the witnesses of what transpire on earth. This tree knew too much to keep alive is what I gleaned from your story. I’m sure the house itself has a few to tell. Maybe it will spill its secrets to the right listener…
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I believe what you say about stones and trees. Trees outlive several generations of humans. Stones, perhaps, only change form from rocks to dust.
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