a winter house

the dieheart romantic spent a year living in a tiny room in this pale yellow green house. when he looked out from his little attic window, he could see a run down church diagonally across the road. it was a small church and it was a very narrow road.


the dieheart romantic has never seen anyone entering the church, not even on sundays.

maybe it had been shut down but the outer facade did not betray this and in fact, has helped to keep its appearance of quaint spiritual solitude. or maybe it has but a tiny congregation and the dieheart romantic has never chanced upon them?

now in this blistering heat, thinking about the cold winters then and that little church across the street, the dieheart romantic wonders about the things he never really knew.

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(posted by the dieheart romantic)