When he was young the man had lived in that house that stands on the hill. He and his wife, the house didn’t belong to them. They worked for the family that owned the ground. That family lived in the house too. They lived on the ground floor with the man and his wife living upstairs. It’s not a big house. By today’s standards barely big enough for a single family, but the man and his wife had been happy there.
He would talk of how they used to sit in the dormer looking out the big window to the south across the valley and rolling hills. They moved on to other places and other windows. Years later long after the house was left to sit empty and his wife passed on he would drive to the house and sit. Looking up at the window where they sat together, so happy, such a long time ago.