The House my Father Built: Part 4

That first week was hard. Much harder than I’d like to admit now. I struggled at first to build even a tiny fire alongside the creek to cook my silver fish, but after a few days following the river I had it down. I would start by scraping off fresh wood shavings that served to … Continue reading The House my Father Built: Part 4

The House my Father Built: Part 2

We didn’t talk much after that night.  It was an uncomfortable silence that would hang in the air whenever we were together. I worked to fill that void.  Little tasks around the house at first, but after a time I roamed further out to keep that silence at bay.  It was after one of those … Continue reading The House my Father Built: Part 2