The House- by Aubrey

The New House

The golden light playing across the old bent oak trees. A small peaked house, out of the storybook it seems. A gray stone path leads to a brown wooden gate, through it, and to the yellow house. The warm, caressing breeze causes the trees above to drop fall colored leaves. A forest green barn with a big sliding door, red and white, faces the narrow road. Inside the barn, there are two carpeted room, both are tiny. The dust covered tools lay to one side, a workbench as well. Wooden stairs lead up to an empty attic, with a door that opens into thin air. It is bolted shut. A real sliding door, like in old farm books, opens to a covered area with a few stalls and cobwebs, obviously not used in a few years. Back a few paces is there is another sliding door, also red and white, that leads outside. Further in, the stalls open up to a corral, small in size. A authentic metal gate is open. You ride in the back of a truck which goes up a hill. Wild to explore the seven acre property, you rush ahead, jumping out of the white truck. Envy fills you as the rocky dirt path slopes down and thick manzanita trees with their mint green leaves lace the path. A large pinetree casts many shadows on the ground, leaving it cool. Giddily, you run ahead, coming to a fork in the path. You take the higher road, your legs pumping with energy. Fresh air fills your lungs, a breeze ruffles by. Stopping, someone spots a deer, light and nimble. She paused, her big ears stock still. A twig snapping startles her, and away she bounces, light as a feather and as bouncy as a spring. Over a large dip she bounds, like a robin. Tall trees canopy the dip, golden brown leaves cover the ground. It turns to gold as the light plays through it. Power surges through your legs as you run ahead, legs pounding up the the rising ground, to the top of the property. Dead weeds and shoots of green grass whisper past your sneakers. Breathless, you reach the top, heart pounding wildly with the sudden sprint. Turning around, you gaze around the area, as dry as a burnt twig. Wishing it were greener, you mournfully pluck thorns out of your pants. Brushing away the sadness, you think about the beauty of the setting sun against the golden and red fall trees and the purple-pink mountains. Soon, everyone catches up to you. After a while you return back to the fairy tale like house. The house, bordered by old rocks and birdhouses, looks large as you approach eagerly. The house is under construction, so you ignore the buckets of paint and chips of wood, taking in the bigger picture.  Nothing catches your immediate attention on the first floor, so you scale the narrow winding stairs to the second story. A hallway stretches ten feet or so. After a few excited steps, a bathroom appears on your left and a bedroom on the right. Two white steps lead up the bedroom with white paint. The roof slopes to the floor, making it smaller than expected. Across the room, an almost floor-level window looks out to the road and right side of the front yard. Another smaller window looks out to the stone path and the left side of the front yard. A closet is also in the room. Going out from the white bedroom, you take two more steps and come to a smaller bedroom with wooden walls that also has a roof touching the floor. A window looks out the barn and stone path. On the left side a screen door opens out onto the roof. After walking out on the roof and thoroughly scaring your mom, you get off. Going to bed that night, you think of all the wonderful things you saw that day.

2 responses

  1. missi11

    Yay! Your got it on!


    December 5, 2014 at 9:34 pm

  2. missi11

    I mean you


    December 5, 2014 at 9:34 pm

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