A man built a house on a plot of land. He lived through good and bad and when he died, his house stood empty. People soon forgot him, but the house remembered.
It remembered his first night there, when he woke, alone, in the middle of the night and almost cried from loneliness. It remembered the joy of his wedding, the trials and worries, the accumulated pain and blood of scraped knees and new babies. The faces that came, and changed, and passed on through its rooms, it remembered.
The house was sold, and sold again, and then finally abandoned, until its windows were empty and vacant and its roof settled slowly into the floor. The years passed until the house was gone but its memories passed to the land. Even when that was built over and paved and excavated for basements and sewers, the land remembered the stories of those that had lived on it.
It remembered until the land sank into the oceans and water covered the area where the man had built his house and lived through good and bad. Its history was eventually forgotten by everyone, but it still remains, written forever in the book of time that only One can read.
The Green-Walled Tower 
August 29th, 2012 at 3:25 pm
some people say that this is the reason of hauntings.
August 29th, 2012 at 4:54 pm
Very nice indeed 🙂
August 29th, 2012 at 6:23 pm
such beautiful writing.
August 30th, 2012 at 12:42 am
David, I think your writing is superb. I enjoy each of the few pieces that I have read. I will definately be back to read more. Thanks for sharing your insights. Wally
August 30th, 2012 at 8:47 am
Thank you. I appreciate it. 🙂
August 30th, 2012 at 1:01 am
What a wonderful piece. Love how you depicted our fleeting existence against the foreverness of time.
August 30th, 2012 at 8:05 am
I like to think we ingrain our memories into a house. I left many happy memories in the house we grew up in and it was sad when we sold it. It’s heritage listed now so at least I feel that they will always remain a layer of its history. Lovely piece.
August 30th, 2012 at 11:39 am
I love the picture of the old house. I find myself wondering about the families, the lives of those who lived in these old abandoned houses…beebee
August 30th, 2012 at 12:48 pm
Beautiful writing David, I nearly cried it was so emotive. I love your blog and I am a follower now. cheers Judy 🙂
judysp.wordpress.com
August 30th, 2012 at 3:03 pm
whatever happened to the stories you were about to try during the typhoon?
August 30th, 2012 at 4:30 pm
They’re longer, so I’m not going to post them here. I can email them to you, if you want.
September 1st, 2012 at 1:02 pm
yes such beautiful writing!!
September 3rd, 2012 at 10:08 am
Superb! This is the word that sprung to mind. Thank you, Eric
September 15th, 2012 at 7:51 pm
What I like reading your stories is “I wonder where he’s going with this”. I don’t usually think that while I’m reading. 🙂
September 17th, 2012 at 10:41 pm
This sounds like a wonderful ghost story…or the makings of a ghost story.