Gabriel Villegas

How It Started

It was a mild, gloomy day when Joseph Richardson stepped out of the taxi cab and onto the sidewalk. This wasn't unusual for Port City, Washington. Looking up he could see a small, tattered house rather out of place in an otherwise upscale neighborhood. The pale green paint had begun to fade and chip away, the white trim now turning brown from years of dust. The lawn was unkempt with patches of green and brown like a patchwork quilt. As he stood there, Joseph couldn't help but think of all the wonderful memories he had had here. With a labored sigh, he pushed open the barn red door and stepped inside.