Lightle House on the Prairie by jerm IX, on Flickr


Lightle House on the Prairie (Springing into Summer) by jerm IX, on Flickr

We leave these bones behind. We inhabit these shells, these domiciles, and then we abandon them. We go vacant. It all rots and decays, as nature always defeats nurture in the end. But we leave these bones behind. Fragments of our selves. Proof that we formerly existed. Our possessions. Our things and stuff. Our bones. Physical reminders that we once lived and breathed and simply were. Bones, or even ashes, that is what we're reduced to...

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