Old and abandoned houses fascinate me. While others may look and see brokenness, I see stories. The crew who built the house, taking care with the details in order to please the new owners. Families who lived, loved, laughed, cried and died in them.

This particular house overlooks the train station and tracks. Did small children watch from the upstairs windows as people got on and off the train? Did they wonder where the travelers came from, or where they were going?