12 Feb

The Middlest Sister

On the street where we grew up, there was this derelict old shack on a heavily wooded lot. My sisters and I spent endless hours wondering about it and trying to get a better look inside. It was a great mystery and remains a mystery to this day. If you happen to know the story behind this little abandoned shack, please do not tell me. I’m sure the stories we invented about it are much better than the truth.

The girls stare at the shack

"I wonder who used to live there?" "I wonder why they left?"

"I wonder why they left all their stuff!" "WOW, Really??"

"Let's break in!" "Let's look for clues!"

"We can't. Read the sign." "No Trespassing. Violators Will Be Prosecuted"

"Prosecuted. What does that mean?" "I don't know. I'll go ask a grown up. Don't do anything until I get back!"

"Mrs. Z! I read a word, but I'm not sure what it means. Can you help?"

"I'll try, Sweetie. What's the word?" "It's, um... pros... pors... persecuted..."

"Oh, dear... hmm... how best to explain...?"

"Well, you know what they did to Jesus, don't you?...Well, that's what that means!"

"Well?" "You guys, we can NOT go in there."

That the punishment for entering this shack was so severe only strengthened my belief that there was something hugely significant about this rotting, broken down little building.

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