The road we took to our destination is off the beaten path, so much so that finding it on your own would be nigh shy of a miracle. From the main road, you will twist and turn through a nicer section of town, that quickly becomes something more befitting to a Mark Twain story, before you make your final turn onto a road that is barely more than paved dirt. The two homes that you pass are more ramshackle than run-down, and it was at this point that I looked at my inviter and wondered where exactly he was taking me. That’s when I saw uur destination; Last House. Which is, literally, the last house on the left.
In truth, had it been dark, this would have been the perfect opening scene for a horror movie. Luckily (for me), it was 9:30 on a Sunday morning.
The house sits alone in a yard that is more dirt than grass. We park under a large shade tree that already has several cars parked around it. We get out and walk to the house. It’s the double red doors that stand out to me, as they contrast against the white exterior. Continue reading Last House on the Left…
Thoughts from the Front 