As September approaches quickly, I was thinking of writing one story line for the month. It will be a challenge, but so will writing as my time is quickly evaporating. Oh well, we shall see...
Start Fiction:
The old shed was falling apart and Willis decided it was time to see of it could be saved or was going to be burned on the spot. Some of the wood would be salvageable, but a large majority, he felt, was in too bad of shape.
His grandfather had built the shed some eighty years prior. Tearing it down would tear down a lot of family history. Willis wonders if he restored it, would it really be the same? So much of the structure would have to be replaced; several trusses, the roof, most of the siding was rotted or pitted and if the studs were in similar condition as the paneling over it, it would be a lot of replacement.
Willis walked in to the shed with a pry bar in one hand and torch in the other. It wouldn't take long to decide, but he wanted to give it a fair shot to prove to would be worth restoration.
He moved to the back of the shed and began tearing out some odd length planks in an approximately five by three foot area. The rest of the planks around the area were uniform making the area seem out of place.
Willis didn't remember the exterior having any patch work from an old window or feed shoot. However, in eighty years he was sure there was a revision or two. He never heard any stories, but having worked on the building he knew there was definitely work done before him by some of the patch jobs.
As he tore open the wall, dust flew everywhere, clouding his vision. After he got four boards off, the dust settled a little and he noticed a case in the wall. Willis' mind wondered for a few moments, trying to decide if his dad or grandfather had hid something away for a rainy day, from the bank, or maybe from a wife.
Gently pulling the case out of the wall, he set it on the workbench. It was an oak case, wonderfully crafted with some sort of etching on the top. Three steel latches held it shut tight, resisting Willis' efforts to open them.
Careful not to break the latches, Willis sprayed them with some silicone in an effort to loosen some of the rust. Using a screwdriver he began to pick at the latches; a jab, a pry, little pops. After working the latches for about fifteen minutes, he had them all worked free.
Willis had envisioned all sorts of treasures awaiting inside the case, everything except what he saw as he lifted the lid. There, lying in a silk lined case was a sword engraved with writing that Willis took for Japanese.
End Fiction.
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