Fiction Friday

Just something little here. A setting a had in my head.

My favorite place in the world is my grandpa's cabin. He left it to me when he died because he knew I would take care of it, and pass it along to my children and grandchildren. He was born there, in the largest of the two bedrooms. He lived there all his life, raised two children until they went off to college. Grandma died twenty years before him, he stayed right there in that cabin until last year. He was 78 years old. It is a fairly simple cabin, has been in the family for five generations including my own. Electricity and a phone line were added over the years, but no cable. The only heat is from the old wood stove in the living area. There's no need for air conditioning here settled back off the road in the woods a bit. It's always shady.

This little cabin sits in the foothills only half an hour from the city. But when I sit on the porch with my first cup of tea for the day looking a the the deep purple morning glory climbing the porch railing and listening to the early birds, it's like I have gone a century back in time.