Tin Roof

From the tin roof, that had been put up just before a storm, that had clattered and banged and made noise so loud, crackling in their ears that he and she, had sat in kitchen, drinking coffee, smiling at one another and staring out at the storm.

This new house had made the difference in their lives, and when the winter came, the fire in the fire place, had burned bright and gave the children a place to warm themselves against the wind and awful cold, and spread the feeling through the whole place.

The warmth and humidity of the summer had made them all feel damp around the edges, with every window open, the night singing loudly in the trees, them lying on the covers on the back porch, their bodies feeling steamed and worked against the hot day.

Through the years they rested, and played, and cried, and felt the belt of disciplines hand, and worried of carrying farm stocks, and wept at the sour notes of death.

They walked the walk away.

First children left, when adulthood had given them spouses and they had managed to create their new lives. Mother and father had kept it working, but the paint was getting rough, the two stories had ceased to be necessary. Their backs were were bending with time.

Father had grayed, and sat on the porch and stared. Mother had tried to keep it up, but when father died, she packed her bags, and went away.

The house is slowly crumbling now. The children had children, and another generation began, and the nights would move in, the winter would rock, the storms would break the ground, and the house, the home, would be no more.

Ralph Peck

Photography by Chris Hall

Leflore County, Oklahoma