The House

FYI: The following is a short, short story I wrote based on the photo below. The blog http://magpietales.blogspot.com/ is dedicated to the craft of writing.

The author of the blog, Willow, posts a picture and then asks writers to create a poem or story about the picture and link back to her site. It's a fun way to work on writing skills and get feedback. I'm being brave and posting it here so you see what it's about and give me feedback. Thanks for reading!  ---Corrina  :o)
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She kicked off her shoes, grateful to be home from a long day of work. The old blue and white two-story house, with its scuffed wood floors didn’t hurt her bare feet nearly as much as the tile in the last house she’d rented. She was grateful for a place like this. Why no one had rented this four bedroom Victorian was beyond her. The rent was cheap; the house and yard in good shape. It was a solid, well-built house. Snug even, for a two story. She had enjoyed filling the rooms with antique furniture and books and finding new treasures at the second-hand shop downtown.


As it had been a hot day, she poured herself a glass of ice cold lemonade from the fridge and sank down into the sofa, putting her feet up on the soft ottoman her mother had given her. She sighed, wiggling her toes. The ticking of the clock was a constant, soft drumming. Some people avoided quiet. They filled it up with TV and music and talk. Not her. She was happy to rest in it.