*
*
*
03-fantasy-on-a-hymn-by-justin-morgan
*
*
*
When I was growing up my parents purchased a small cottage on a lake about
ten miles from our home. Originally it had just been a bedroom with a
kitchen wrapped around it and a bathroom on one end. It had two large
windows facing the water and my parents added a porch in front of the windows.
During the summer months we would sometimes live in our little cottage. It
didn’t have a bathtub or shower so we would all gather down by the water
with a bar of soap. The sand went out a ways and there was a small pier at
one end of the property line. And so the limits of our bathing area were
well defined.
Early morning was the time for this ritual. And then we would walk up the
hill and through the trees for breakfast. It was my three younger sisters
and my parents sitting around a large round oak table that I remember. It
was located on the porch and it had wheels.
Next to it was my portable bed. And the windows between the porch and the
kitchen were permanently open. So the smells of eggs and bacon cooking
floated through the porch on their way out the large screened windows and
down to the lake.
There were no curtains on the porch and it was flooded with light at
daybreak. And then the squirrels would start running around on the roof.
There was little chance that I could sleep under such circumstances
but it didn’t matter. Continue Reading »