I pulled the screen door closed and it shut with a clang. A familiar and unexpected clang. The high heat and humidity, the bright sun outside, even the sound of something like cicadas.
I was looking out my grandparents' screen door over the hood of a faded red pickup to the analog clock-style thermometer hanging along the short border of their carport's roof.
As quickly as I was there, I was back, looking over the deck to a bunch of leafy green trees in my back yard.
My mother's parents have both been gone over a decade. It's been even longer since I've been to that house, auctioned off after my granddad died.
I blinked back the water in my eyes and closed the inner door.
A year ago on TTaT: Epic Memorial Weekend Sale. See the current 2012 sale here!