All that remains
“If walls could talk,” he said with a mournful laugh. The emotion in his voice briefly revived the sweltering heat of forgotten summer nights in the little bedroom that he and his four siblings had shared, a tear appearing on his cheek as he remembered their first home. Half listening to the unseen speaker on the phone, his desire to see again the clapboard shack where he was born revived an almost forgotten sorrow. But the walls that once witnessed his tender youth were torn down like unwanted chapters in a book, a cherished period of his life suddenly ending.
