Peering over the rusty gate, she noticed patches of moss growing on a broken stone path. Dandelions and toadstools littered the overgrown grass hiding the dens of field mice. An old tyre rested between the roots of an ancient oak tree, the frayed remains of rope still swinging from a strong branch. Ghosts of children’s laughter echoed on the breeze.
Categories: Fiction Friday
Rafferty's Rules [Currently Being Refurbished] 
What are your thoughts?