“All that had been used to make it a dwelling place, by my folks on back, by Grover and me… all the memories of all the lives that had made it and held it together, all would come apart and be gone as if it never was.”
---from Sold, a short story by Wendell Berry
The rooms were empty by the time I arrived. Except for a few heaps of trash here and there and some stuff no one wanted, it was finished, done.
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