Treehouse

On a quiet afternoon, a young woman emerged out of a run-down suburban home, that had once been the envy of the neighborhood. Tearing out into the yard, she kicked off her shoes in the barren earth. She navigated towards the large oak tree. She gripped the shaky old ladder on the familiar trunk. Without even a testing foot to check the sturdiness, She trustingly began to propel herself up. Past rusty nails stuck in the bark and rotting birdhouses, Faded carved initials, and the remnants of her secret hiding places. She kept going, Gliding thoughtlessly Higher than she had been able to climb during the prime of her youth. When she finally glanced down, She let the tears fall Mourning the loss of her home, her family, and the child who ceased to exist.