I always loved coming to this little hideaway for our little holiday breaks. For the past fourteen years our family always house shared the third from the bridge. Me and my brother always loved playing football on the grass, unless one of us hit the ball into the river or running through the woods behind the houses til dark.
I remember one time we knocked a ball into the far house garden. We took turns daring who should get it. We were told it was never lived in but when we tried to retrieve our ball we could swear we saw movement inside, when we tried looking beyond our reflections in the window.
I recall asking an old man about it a few years ago, he said it hasn’t been lived in for sometime; since he was a child in fact.
Apparently, the story was, a couple used to live there. A young woman use to wait at home for her husband returning from the mill further down the river. She could always be seen riding a blue bike with a wicker basket, when ever she rode into town.
However, one day the husband returned home only to find an empty house; he waited for his wife, even searched everywhere for her, but she never did return…
…I wondered if he meant that blue rusty frame in those bushes me and my brother found in the woods?
1. The Visitor by Janet Mayled
2. Theme prompt: Reflections on a window
Laura Steel © 2015