This little tale was an impromptu response to a fellow blogger’s prompt. He asked that I tell him a story. I asked what kind of story, and his response was “a fictionalized account of real life.” The following is the story I told him.
The house was situated a quarter mile back from the main road, though there was a straight shot from the front window to the traffic beyond. For the most part, people steered clear of the little house set apart.
It’s not that it wasn’t part of a larger community; it was. But the occupants never acclimated to the area, nor had the townsfolk ever warmed to them. It certainly didn’t help matters that the woman was a bit touched in the head. She could be spotted walking the sidewalks, muttering to herself, wringing her hands, her eyes glazed over as though she wasn’t focused on…
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