Mason Jar (fm:voyeurism, 4939 words) | |||
Author: swampvenus | |||
Added: Sep 30 2007 | Views / Reads: 1191 / 927 [78%] | Story vote: 9.67 (3 votes) | |
The summer goes on forever in the Deep South, and there is a strange heat to it. This is a story you may have read before; it returns now. | |||
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Now I don't know if you've spent any time here in the Deep South, any real time, but it can be so hot here that it changes your whole perspective on things. It can make you think in a whole new way.I live in a huge, old plantation house by myself. It passed to me basically by accident as I was adopted as a baby by older parents who lived there. They died when I was fifteen, so a guardian of sorts monitored my finances and living there until I was eighteen, and then I was on my own.
The house sits in a bayou, which is a swamp of sorts. The bayou is beautiful, though, don't let the moniker "swamp" fool you. Yes, there are insects and creatures and such, but it is truly stunning, at least to me. The house is surrounded by weeping willows and other lush greenery, and there is nothing like sitting on the porch at night, listening to the frogs and other sounds, with a million lightning bugs flashing about you.
The house itself has three stories, although the top is more like a very big attic whose walls are mostly windows. I've taken that story as my studio where I make art, and my master suite is on the second floor along with some other rooms. Both the first and second stories are surrounded all the way around the house by porches, and a number of doors open out to the porches. It's lovely, because you can be outside from almost any room, and when the weather is fine, the doors can all ...
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