The faint smell of perfume grew in strength as I walked into the warm atmosphere. With the calming music flooding the room, the sense of safety became nestled into my brain. The shelves were cluttered with the work of the future yet still maintained its clean reputation. I descended into the soft duvet and took a sip of my glass of Dr Pepper. The taste flowed and lapped over the warm remnants the evening cookies had given me and created a feeling of heaven. This was Home.
Was.
This atmosphere hadn't ever been sustained for more than a few minutes. The deafening sounds that lurk the halls and the living room pierce any serenity you would ever hope to seek. As I grew up with the disruptive nature of the household, I found the true meaning of a 'home'. A place you can feel universally safe and protected, truly at peace. As if the whole world stands in silence for you as you bathe in a seclusion of your own. My mind has always drawn me, baited me, to three locations I call home.
YOU ARE READING
Home 20 (A 2020 Short Story)
Historia CortaWritten from my own mind in a national lockdown in 2020, I explore the three locations that make up my safety and my inner peace.
