(Credit: hotel-r.net)
She never left this place.
These creaking doors and draughty windows, this garden full of old plum trees. The fruit always ended up on the grass.
She had his groceries brought to her, and boards and nails to repair the larger holes in the roof.
She slept in one bedroom and ate in the kitchen. I visited once. In the other bedroom and the living room, the furniture was covered with white sheets and cobwebs.
She lived here for 30 years
Then she passed away.
But she never left.
A Bolg? 
Widdershins
/ September 18, 2016What a beautiful, sad, old house.
W. R. Woolf
/ September 21, 2016Yes. I understand why she did not want to leave.