The Haunted Parkers (a work in progress)
I remember the Parker’s. You cross the creek bout two miles down a dirt road and through the wood. Then you are at the Parker’s house.
I remember the Parker’s outhouse. I remember the smell. I remember the house. Windows with flour sack curtains. Bare bones, wood frame house. No paint. Just wood. Smoke wafting from the wood stove. Mrs. Parker baking biscuits. Front porch screened and shadowy. Crawlspace under. Alien space. Haunted, dark space. Storage, old stuff, to be never resurrected. broken stuff, abandoned. Just buried in dust. Like memories hidden.