It had to be nearby; she remembered walking this path to picnic in the shade with her grandparents. Now the area seemed so different yet so much the same it was hard to remember, should she have turned into the woods sooner, she remembered there was a tiny arbor at the end.
Suddenly, she felt she was in the right place, but she couldn’t see anything except a sprawling grapevine. As if by magic she realized the sprawling grapevine outlined the shape of a house, and barely held up a crumbling chimney, an outline, a memory of what was.
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