Lora stood there in the overgrown front lot of her new dream project...

eyes closed, imagining the Civil War era home restored to its former glory when Liza pulled up. The old lady she bought the house, and three acres of land, from said that it was built by her father and his brother. "They hammered callouses into their hands. The land they won in a keno game during the war," she croaked through her nicotine stained lips. Rubbing her gnarled fingers together, the keys jangling between them. "They're yours now." she whispered. She shoved the keys into the new owners open hands, nearly jamming back Lora's outstretched fingers. When she saw the last of the elderly woman's dirty white hair disappear into the dented sedan, Lora waved her off and headed back to unpack her car.

"And you are the last one." she said as she put the final box down on the kitchen table that looked like it was original to the house. Lora ran her slender fingers over the scratched wood and pondered its story. Who sat here? Who ate here? She threw her floppy hat on to the table, grabbed her bubble bath out of the box labeled bathroom, a towel, and her pink terry robe from the laundry basket, and headed up the stairs. She hoped that at least the water had been turned on, because the power had not, and she only had 4 packs of DDs left for her dated camping lantern. She tossed her towel at the large pedestal sink, turned the chipped knob on the lion-clawed tub, and waited. The pipes banged out a rebellion song before finally releasing the steaming water from the gaping mouth of the faucet. "Yes!" Lora celebrated as her clothes fell to the floor. The water was clear, as if it had run from a stream. And hot. This was a bonus. She got in and sank into the bubbles, dozing off only after a few cycles of Somebody To Love on her phone.

Lora must have been asleep for hours, because her phone was dead, and the last of the sun had disappeared over the line of trees behind the house. She pulled the rubber stopper out of the drain, pulled herself up and out of the deep tub, and wrapped the towel around her wet body. She dried herself off before putting on her favorite robe - it was very soft, and reminded her of Sunday breakfasts with her parents. They had been gone ten years and she missed them terribly. It was because of them that she loved buying and restoring "homes with history", as her father would say. Lora grabbed her lantern, and went back down the stairs to the kitchen, opened a can of chicken noodle soup, and sat down to read. The barely touched book was one she'd picked up at some used book store on her drive from Chicago to Partridge Park. When she moved the hat that she had thrown on the table before going up for her bath, she found a deck of cards laying under it. "That's odd." Lora said as she picked up the cards and disappeared.

The next morning, the old dented sedan pulled into the gravel driveway with the strange old lady behind the wheel. After driving Lora's vehicle a quarter mile down the road, she packed up Lora's things, put them in her trunk, and waited for the next new owner to arrive. "Shouldn't be long now, Uncle Abel." she said to the Union soldier standing next to her. "She said she would be here at noon."

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YAYYY! My first flash fiction is in the books! Somebody To Love is one of my most favorite songs. Gives me goosebumps. Special shout-out to @narashi for her wonderful assistance with editing. Love ya, L! <3
Thanks for reading!
x x
Mo
Photo Credit: Pixabay