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Before

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Herman sat back and allowed his mind to wander, looking out on such a boring building with its lifeless windows had taxed his soul these last years. His mind drifted back to what had stood there before the allied blitz had torched the city.

He saw a crooked row of timber framed buildings with their infills of wattle and daub painted in pastel colours, window boxes filled with flowering plants. People populated the image in his mind, Hildegard his mother setting out to care for a pregnant neighbour. His father with his paint brushes. In silence with these images he departed.

yep it's me
yep it’s me

 

This Post Has 32 Comments
    1. One of the beauty’s of FF is the exchange of ideas and words. I have learned so much from you and the others.

      Robbie says ‘cute’ would not his his choice of how he see’s himself. He thinks that smart and loyal suit him better.

  1. I cringe when they tell on the news how ancient buildings and artworks thousands of years old have been pulled down and destroyed out of sheer hatred of the way others believe. This type of hatred is malignant and detestable. Good writing, Mike. — Suzanne

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