It had gotten to the point of obsession. Every road that lead away from my home heading to any part of town lead me past the park. When I first looked at the house, not only did I love it, but I was more excited about living near the park. I had grown up there and spent many of days running and playing until I nearly fainted with exhaustion. The free flowing creek that ran through the length of the park, and the lush green of the age-old trees made it a timeless place to be. Her wildest dreams would have never brought her back to this place, let alone living near the very spot where she spent time in the amazing green space.
Now every glance at the old guard house in her childhood play space was surrounded by high bramble bushes. The tall slender trees drooped under the weight of the wild red berries. As much as the City promised to make it a historical part of the park, the house sadly looked over the park. Having been vandalized and mistreated over the years, it's once grandeur creaked under the weight of neglect.
So when I sat down to morning coffee & the newspaper, it wash of fear spread over me when the headlines read "Murder In the Park!!!" A young woman had been killed and left dead in the old guard house.
What was once innocence and beauty became a mighty 'fear spot' for me long afterward. When the snow fell, the left over police 'CRIME SCENE' tape still managed to flap in the wind from beneath the snow. It is forever embedded in my memory.
The One Minute Writer: Friday Flash Fiction (FFF): "Murder In the Park"
No.... I'm not talking about Wally Lamb's book . I'm talking about my mother. For the past two years, I've tried to put ...
I find as I get older, there are certain things I love about me, like: how comfortable I feel in my skin how accepting I am of my body, wi...
"Faith is raising the sail of our little boat until it is caught up in the soft winds above and picks up speed, not from any...