Passing by our old place

[evansan7]

When we were kids that shed was a house. Those steps were bewitched so only we could enter. The dogs buried now in that yard were our children. We tied blankets round their necks like cloaks and fed them bread and honey stolen from the kitchen. We found a splintery piece of plywood down the road in the ditch and set it across the doorway. They couldn’t escape but could see over to dream of it. Longing brown eyes gazing outside earned a pat on the head.

Some feral cat lives there now, behind stored junk. I fell through a rotting step climbing up to peek in. It hissed at me, loudly. No dogs are there to chase it. No bread is baking. And I haven’t heard from you in months. I don’t know your games now.

[hillwalker]

It's great as far as it goes... though the leap from reminiscences about the shed to the final 3 sentences seemed too abrupt to be even a conscious stylistic device. This would definitely benefit from a little expanding (not something I often say).

I also stumbled at

I fell through a rotting step climbing up to peek in. It hissed at me, loudly.

We know you meant the cat (in the preceding sentence) but the way you've written it it reads as if you are referring to the step.

H