I'm on fire!

[misaffection]

Memento

Sarah pulled over outside the house, turned off the engine and sighed. For several moments she stared out of the windscreen, before she worked up enough courage to look out of the driver's window at the house.

It stood silently, the curtains drawn. Empty and quiet, not at all like she remembered it. Sighing again, Sarah opened her door and got out of her car.

The gate squeaked on rusty hinges, the once perfect paintwork was flaking off. Weeds poked through the gravel on the path and the garden was overgrown. She stared at the long grass remembering cricket pitch stripes and not a daisy in sight. Shrubs with fat green leaves and perfect flowers, their smells heavy on the air.

The red paint on the front door was faded. Sarah unlocked it and went into the house. Silence and dust greeted her. She was never more thankful she'd thought of getting professionals to sort out the possessions. They'd organised everything into boxes and stacked them in the front room.

Sarah stood in the hall, looking in. Boxes. Two lifetimes' reduced this; box upon box, carefully organised, carefully placed. It wasn't right. This room had never been so empty, never been so quiet. There should be children playing, her father sitting in his big comfy armchair and trying to watch the news over the noise.

Crossing the room, Sarah pulled a photograph album from one box. Pictures of half-forgotten memories. Of her and her sister, their brothers. Playing in the garden, school plays and holidays on the beach. She grinned at the recollections.

And then the decision was made and she pulled her mobile 'phone out of her handbag. She dialled a number with practised ease and listened to it ring. After several bursts it was answered.

“Hello,” said the voice at the other end.

“Mark, it's Sarah.”

“Hi Sarah. What can I do for you?”

“You know how I was planning on selling my parents' house?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I've changed my mind. Put the flat on the market - I'm moving back home.”

Sarah rung up and looked round, satisfied. Yes this place would be better for being filling with life and laughter once again. It would be a fitting memento to her parents and everything they'd taught her.

---

Frozen

The room is frozen
Everything as it was before
The posters tacked to the walls
Photographs scattered on the floor
Like so many forgotten memories
That nothing can restore
The covers on the bed
Haven't changed since the day
An idiot in a motor car
Took their little girl away
So everything is frozen
And that's the way it'll stay

Both inspired by today's prompt on WordTrip