The Prodigal Son

His boot hit the gravel with crunch, there was a certain trepidation in his step, a hesitancy as if each step was an uncertain answer to a unasked question. He could not help but think with certain bitter irony that the prodigal son had returned. He had always hated that story. His family had always been deeply religious and so bible study had been a mandatory thing of his youth. Now he was not so sure he believed in the same god his parents had taught him to worship.

The house was a crisp clean, typical suburban house. Amazing how once this was where he felt safe, he once called this house home. That had changed. It was now only a matter of how much that had changed. He could not imagine his parents' reaction. Ridiculous really he was twenty-five and still looking for his parents approval. But he had done it, he had gone through with his decision and there was no going back from this.

He approached the house, uneasy but determined, he knew he would have to face his family at some point or other it was only a matter of time before they found out and really it was better that they found out from him then from someone else. Although the very thought of facing them had his stomach clenching, fist tightening and breath shortening even so he knew this was necessary for him to move on.

As he walked towards the house he could not help but catalogue all the details. The maroon door he helped paint. The lawn he used to cut to earn pocket money. The tree he used to climb whenever he felt overwhelmed by daily life. He could see his old bedroom window. He wondered if this was the last time he'd ever see all this. He felt as if he was saying his farewells. It was fitting seeing as he had in a sense been reborn.

He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. He could not help but again think of all the memories the house held but before nostalgia could sweep him away the door opened. His mother stood there. The slight smile on her face was quickly replaced with confusion.

"Lucy?" her tone was colored with confusion but she also seemed pleasantly surprised.

He stared at her for a second. Trying to imprint the image of her in his mind. Her blond hair, brown eyes, wide smile, even the laugh lines around her eyes all seemed so perfect. He hoped she remembered the thousands of times she had kissed him goodbye or said I love you or done a million other things that mothers do to children they love and cherish. He hoped she remembered the day she gave birth to him, the day she promised she would always love him no matter what.

"Ah...hi mom. It's actually Luke now" He can't help but look away, fearing her reaction, fearing that the unconditional love promised to the daughter from birth would not transfer to the son from choice.