by mriwoods

Created on: September 18, 2009   Last Updated: July 31, 2010

Early in the evening I drove to a less populated side of my town. The day had been a really hot and humid one. The air  finally cooled  slightly. It felt great to drive along a country road with the windows down and feel the wind in my hair.  I was daydreaming as I continued driving down an unfamiliar road.  My focus was not on the road, I was engrossed in thought of my youngest child going off to college. As I relaxed and enjoyed my drive the car jolted and a loud bang echoed into my quite world. I was immediately startled back to reality.

The car began to  thump and bounce over a large pot hole in the road. I skidded the car in the sand and down into an embankment into the edge of the road. I discovered I struck a jagged boulder sticking from out of the dirt. The unpaved section of road I drove on had been recently oiled.  "I was Probably driving a little too fast. This caused the stone to tear a hole in the tire. The car's hood popped up at the point of impact against a tree leaning out to catch me.   I'd been meaning to replace these baloney skin tires anyway." Thinking out loud, at least helped me to rationalize my situation.

I wasn't sure where I was located. When I call the auto service, I'll have to be sure of where I am. I decided to get out of the car and walk until I found a crossroad. Not very far into my walk the air became still. The wonderful summer breeze, keeping me cool on the humid day, just stopped. Not only did the breeze cease but the air smelled of rotting vegetables. 

Ahead I saw  what appeared to be an old farm house. It was buried in a mass of overgrown vines. Barely looking like a house at all, It looked more like it belonged under a bridge for trolls to live in. Moss filled in the openings where windows might have been. Swarms of misquotes hovered over the swampy brook surrounding the property. This became stagnant over time as the weeds grew as tall as some of the trees.

Just beyond the house stood a barn. The barn's shingles hung limply off the black tar top roof. With crater sized holes going through the tar paper, I imagined, large creepy claws pulling their way out of the barn. Thickets grew wild around the perimeter of the barn and patches of gold wild flowers with black spots in the middle grew amongst the crumbling foundation.

I noticed a path which ran from the barn to the house. The house probably was occupied not too long ago. A pile of unread newspapers were stacked against

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