This week’s prompt for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto ~ Worn
For visually challenged writers, the image shows deeply worn stone steps, scattered with plants growing in the cracks, leading up to a blue-painted door.
Before Cissey died she stood in the ginnel looking up at doors. Nothing had changed. The steps they used to climb up and down to school, to work to home. Still there worn and full of stories. When babies the pram would be stood at the bottom of the steps and the door was left open so a watchful eye was kept.
As Children they’d perch on the steps and shell the peas and peel carrots and potatoes. Each would have a job. The house was small for a family of ten so often they spilled over on to the steps. Noisy, rowdy, quiet pensive, laughing crying all life flowed out of the two up two down housr on to the steps.
One by one they left the safety of the home, walked down the steps either with Dad or Mum or alone to set up a new life. Some went far some just to another street.
They always came back, for birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, christenings, Christmas and funerals. Always at any event they spilled out on to the steps.
As time past the traffic on the steps become less yet somehow the indents looked accentuated deeper worn. Over the years the generations grew until there was no one left to truly know the significance of the worn steps. Who’s feet had left their mark on history.
Sell it the young ones said, not knowing the reasons for the worn steps. They painted the door, they painted the railings, they thought about repairing the steps but left them.
The for sale sign went up, people came to see the house. They saw the potential, they saw the new paint, the newly added kitchen and bathroom. They didn’t see the generations of family on the steps so many joys and dramas.
Nobody saw them but a special few felt them on the worn out steps. One couple saw them too and they bought the house and the steps.
willowdot21 