The House That Aged With Time
Our ancestral home, built in 1964, slowly weakened.
Years of low maintenance made it unsafe.
Now, when we visit the village, we only stand outside and look at it.
The walls are tired.
The roof fragile.
We don’t dare enter.
Yet every crack holds laughter.
Every corner holds memories.
It waits quietly — like an old guardian watching generations move on.
Comments