In This House


He lived in this house. He died in this house.

I begged for his life. I got down on my knees and begged God for the chance that he may live once again.

But he told me not to. He told me that everything would be okay.

“My body may be going away, but my spirit will always remain.” He always spoke that way- calmly and rhythmically. I couldn’t bare to lose him. So, I cried, for him, for the pain that filled my chest, for the precious life that was leaving this world.

And he hummed, quietly, peacefully. He knew his time was up, but he remained strong.

“My spirit will always remain,” were his last words. Then he closed his eyes, and slept.

He lived in this house. He died in this house…

His spirit protects this house. He is, and will forever be, apart of this house.

Word count: 139


14 thoughts on “In This House

      1. This time I didn’t feel it was redundant. I don’t think you can use that tactic all the time, but for this one it worked. My flash fiction for this week isn’t quite as deep as yours.


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