The garden was overgrown, the paving on the driveway was uneven and the house listed ever so slightly to the right. The entire street, and the streets next to it were the same. Seismic ripples caused upheaval of not just the earth but also of homes, memories, lives and communities. The sense of devastation and loss was overwhelming.
It was the first time I had been back. Tears streamed down my face as I had a frome through the front window and saw everything as we had left it. I sat on the front step and bawled with raw, indescribable pain.
For 100 consecutive days I will write and post a short story (about 100 words) incorporating a randomly selected word from Afterliff: A new dictionary of things there should be words for.
to peer through the slats of a venetian blind.