I say my goodbyes as I walk down the hall. My child and wife weep as they watch me make my way down the stairs to the foyer. A young man opens the door and follows me outside. I take one last good look before departing. My home. Beautiful where it stands. I look at the lions and I know they'll keep my family safe while I'm away.
Suddenly I wake up with a stabbing pain in my abdomen. A twisting and turning in my body on the right side. I'm sweating. There's so much pain.
Eventually it goes away.
Months later I'm back. I recognize the entrance gate. Just over the hill and there it is. My home. The lions are still standing guard. I walk over to the terrace as I usually do when the sun sets. I take in a deep breath of the warm summer air as I look over the green hills in the distance. I look over at the horses in between trees biting for grass. The spring has been kind to the gardens down below with yellow tulips and pink roses.
Though I am not looking through the same eyes. The wind feels different on my skin. But everything is exactly as I remembered with a few.
I go inside and walk through my home, through every hallway and room. I peep in on the staff to see what they are baking or what linens they are washing. Everything, the silks, the tapestries, the books, the photographs of my family, the tiles on the floor...it's all so beautiful as I planned it to be. And everyone welcomes me home with big hearts and bright smiles.
I'm right where I'm supposed to be. My beautiful home in the hills.
