The winds of October whistle and wind through the echos of my mind. I walk through open fields and see the wheat grown high as I search for peace in my mind’s eye. The sadness from the memories of the past, flood my mind and soul with feelings of pain and sorrow. What shall happen to us tomorrow, as I roam the fields all filled with hay and wheat, in the distance a shape takes form. A small cabin out here in the fields and no one near it what I wonder what is it doing here and what does it hold? I stop and stare with laboring breathe it has been a trek for me, in my shape, I am older now and my body is not in great shape. I huff and puff for a bit before I proceed towards it now slowly across the fields. The boards are falling down on, the cabins side in pieces, the windows are broken the wood turned grey in the sunlight, no one has been here forever. What is this cabin doing here and what secrets does it hold as I circle around it staring at the weathered and broken boards that make up it’s exterior. I wonder who lived here and what did they do and why did they leave?
My Thoughts for an opening of a new story dealing with a little mystery and the windy days of October. What ya think folks any good?
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