The house washed up years later, on a lonely beach with a new foundation of rocky barnacles. It showed no signs of its youthful beauty and teenagers were quick to invade it. They further sullied it with their used condoms, empty beer bottles, and ghost stories.
At the height of its second life, none of the house’s inhabitants—or rather, visitors, for no one ever stayed very long—ever paused to imagine the dwelling complete, roofed, and sturdy. The reincarnated house preferred it that way, liking its temporariness to the stiff perfection of city life. Yes, the house felt more alive than ever.
My 100-word contribution to Friday Fictioneers, a cool writing blog that I just discovered.
Wow! A talking house – or a living breathing thinking house?
Hmm, I see the beach vagrants easily… Get off my beach!
But, I understand what you were going for.
I like the concept of the house’s “second life,” and the narrative that describes the house’s reaction to it, particularly the second paragraph. Well done!
The narrative, tied into the history and emotions of a house is so perfect for the photo. When I took this picture, it was as if this building had a life, had a history all its own. You’ve really captured this wonderfully!
Dear Edit,
Welcome to Friday Fictioneers. It’s an addictive endeavor that I liken to The Hotel California. “You may check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.”
For me few edifice POV’s work. This one does. Well done. I look forward to reading more of your work.
Shalom,
Rochelle
oh, the house finally became a home.
Don’t blame the House for wanting to stay put. Everyone wants a sea change.
I enjoyed this – particularly the concept of barnacled foundations. Good one.
The house must have a story or two to tell. Some interesting listening ahead!
Interesting take on the prompt.