charming houses

Some houses are just like that. When you see it, you see it’s mysterious charm and the stories that are hidden right behind the front door. That’s what I felt like when I saw Annie Preney’s house. My mom told stories about how she went over to Annie’s with the other neighborhood kids and saw her rescued cats. She told stories about Annie’s gentle touch and the candy that she used to give all of the kids who came over to her house.

Annie’s house had murky gray paint. It was peeling, and I couldn’t tell you how many weeds were in front of it. But it had that kind of old charm. You could still see picture frames and furniture through the cracked windows. I wasn’t scared of it. I was interested. I was interested in this house.

  photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/41220666@N08/4440740171">IMG_1389</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">(license)</a>