The Tree house.

I sat sticking to the scorching black linoleum covering the oak stairs to my great-aunt's back porch. The sweat poured down me like a thin steam following my spine to the small of my back. Despite the sweltering heat, and air so thick you could cut through it with a knife, my dad and uncle labored on to build me the most beautiful tree house I have ever seen. Even though it was nearing twilight …

…wavered. This tree house will forever be in my thoughts as one of the most beautiful, fun-filled, precious spots that I have ever gotten the privilege to experience. I hope that it's strength will hold for many generations so that my children and their children will be able to share the valuable memories of a place that was so cherished to me that I hold today and will hold for the rest of my life.