This is the house just a few doors down from me, at the end of the street. I look at it and imagine it as the home it once was. Kids playing hide and seek. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and biscuits for Sunday supper after church. Who lived here when TV was invented and we sent astronauts to the moon? If the walls could talk, they would tell stories of children giggling and then the bittersweetness of their growing up and moving away.

I imagine the children as grandparents now, deciding to drive by at the last minute, on a trip between Phoenix and New Orleans, maybe. It’s not really on the way, but it’s as close as they’ll ever be in the foreseeable future, they tell themselves. And when they see it, what do they remember …?

Listen for the whisper of children’s laughter

Weekly Photo Challenge: My Neighborhood