In a farmers field, a share croppers home still stands. Inside it’s thin walls are the remains of unknown lives.
Seemingly, for no reason a hole has been cut in the floor, but there is no plumbing in this old house, so that can’t be why it’s there.
In an adjoining room assorted junk is piled high consisting of yesterday’s and today’s trash.
Surprisingly in what I think is the front room an old piano stands alone. I take a bit of time to study it and it’s broken keys.
I wonder when last it was played? Was this their only entertainment? Was this what a lone individual used to escape hard days and humid nights?
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ForgottenTennessee will keep posting.