The Starving Activist is the sometimes-home for words. AR Neal (that’s me) finds them, cultivates them, and leaves them here. Enjoy.

Scribe's Cave Picture Prompt: Our New Home

Dad was so happy. "Wait until you see the place!" He held out his free hand as he steered up the craggly and unkempt road. "It is a fixer-upper, so don't panic when you first see it. But it's big enough for us to have company. There's a library, a ballroom, an attached greenhouse, and even a small chapel on the top floor with a bell tower!" Mom said nothing as she gripped the upolstery hard enough to leave bruises; I could see she was crying. Sammy and I looked at each other and at the scenery: Most of what I saw on my side was either dead or dying and had been that way for the last hour. "Okay--here we are!" He turned into what had been a wide and impressive entranceway in its day; now it was nothing but old dirt and puddles. The sky seemed to turn more gray as our car crunched toward the decaying structure. "I've been through the whole house and it's fantastic! I got it for a steal I tell ya, and kids--it's big enough for you each to have your own wing." Dad prattled on and we were afraid.

For this week's Scribe's Cave Picture Prompt. Click the house for details.

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