The empty house

Why do we linger?

My steps in the empty corridor echo through time. Small, slow steps that travel many years back. Empty walls, empty cabinets. Lost fragments of a past.

The emptyness

When were the days and nights when this house was full of life? Forgotten in the course of time, it has also started the trip to oblivion. Like my own memories. I can't help myself but remember all those moments, scattered in a room of toys and birthday parties. Of a house that was conquered by our innocence.

of those who left,

As I step inside, the emptiness of its rooms has a heavy burden on me. It is squeaky and old, it is small.

of those who stayed,

It is fascinating how your childhood memories remain intact. And as you grow old and you revisit those special places, then you too are astonished by how big the world looked in your eyes. I enter this room, the room I used to sleep and our mother used to nurture us, and I see half of it. I see it has shrunk through time. Maybe it also got tired through leaps in time. Maybe it has also seen too much and now has the need to retire. But I know now it is full of life again. It has revived. Or at least it tries to, till solitude covers its corridors for one more time.

is bigger than our own lives.

Photos taken with I-phone 4, November 2013, Kozani, Greece.
Model: My mother. 
Vicky Griva Photography ©