Golden Box Book Publishing One Picture: Thousands of Words - Page 59

The Eyes of the Watchtower By Molly Neely She stepped out of the car, the smell of aged wood and time filled her nostrils. The house of her childhood stood dormant and looming, it's ghosts and secrets clung desperately to the clouded windows, begging to be released. She knew coming back here would be a mistake. But there were more than memories buried under those floorboards, and the past needed to be exhumed. Brittle leaves left abandoned in the driveway, crackled under her feet as she made her way to the porch. A gust of wind, damp and cold, pushed the length of her coat to one side, exposing her mostly bare legs to the mercies of October. As she climbed the faded steps, a voice from past swirled around her head like a swarm of gnats. “You'll never be as great as your father...”