The house bursting and yet empty.
This is a bareness of harvest or pestilence.
Tilly put the book down when her Aunt asked what she was reading.
She made an excuse and escaped through the kitchen. Hurried along the pockmarked lane.
The keys were cold in her palm, which was odd, seeing as they had been hung by the Aga.
When she climbed the gate she heard him muttering about townies always f’ing over good gates by not climbing over hinge end.
The tractor won’t start at first, takes a little coaxing.
Great Old Lady, done more than her fair share of things and would carry on longer than he would no doubt.
She eased it into gear and checked the harrow out of the back window.
He’d liked things finished, seen through to the end.
Today was as good a day as any.
Carol J Forrester - Writing and Works 
I love how I observe her actions and try to piece together her story… to me the backstory in my head is much larger than what I see
Excellent tease and slice of life, catching the reader off guard. My guess is “He” was her grandfather, and she was honoring his memory; a larger manifestation than the Swedish tradition, action not candles and murmured prayers./
House bursting yet empty! What a great line!!
I love the opening line, which whets my appetite, and the keys being cold in her palm after they’d been hung by the Aga. I like the way the reader is left to fill in the gaps – is ‘he’ dead or alive?
This leaves so much to be imagined. Excellent!
Very nice. Will you please tell me the rest of the story some day? I will wait.
I learned what is an aga, but all else is conjecture in this mysterious tale … riveting to the end!
Oooh la la! what a great little horror story! Absolutely love the grim sparseness of it. You make us harvest our own conclusions.
FANTASTIC POST AND LOVE THE PHOTOGRAPHS, CHINA
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