Restoring Foundations

The sound of the old wooden door creaking open was like a forgotten memory forcing its

way back. My eyes widened when I saw Ethan standing there in the middle of the

dusty hall. He was holding a rusted paint scraper and looking just as surprised as

I was. We had not spoken since our bitter breakup years ago. Now fate had thrown

us together in this dilapidated room. Our project lead told us we were the only volunteers

assigned to this wing. Ethan gave me a half hearted smile and said he guessed

we were stuck together. The tension in the air was crackling. As we worked side by side the proximity

reignited memories I had buried deep. Every creak of the floorboards reminded me of the dreams