I arrive at my home's all-so-familiar door and knock. A click is heard behind the door and is opened to reveal my mother, a darling she truly is. She has a spring dress on, the bosom hung empty and the hem swept the floor.
A couple of brown strands of hair swept over her face. Her gray eyes remind me of the cloudy day today just happened to be, yet unlike today, the image of her effortlessly calms me.
She chuckled, earning a gentle smile from me. She hugged me ever so softly I could melt in her embrace.
"Mom, hey!" I beamed, pulling away from her; which made me acknowledge how warm and comforting she was formerly once I came in contact with the cold.
"Dean, my dear! Oh, I've missed you!" She giggled, letting me in the home.
I do not call it a house, this place is far more than a house; home is a sense of serenity in the soul and, with that, you can feel at home anywhere.
The familiarity and comfort I get from this home is magnificent. It is a place of safety I prefer among all others, I have balance within myself here.
Perhaps if you dwell in a house that lacks the feeling of home, it isn't just as fascinating—and my family just completes this feeling.
I walk with my mother to greet my sister, my, unfortunately, sick sister. She is diagnosed with the Spanish flu, the virus is transmitted from person to person and I can't get too close.
She laid there on her bed, reading what seems to be a children's book.
"Penny!" I exclaimed, waving dramatically in a silly demeanor.
"Hey, Dean!" She chimed in, making my heart flutter in hearing her excited voice. It was obvious that she looked a bit worn out from the flu, yet, whenever she smiled or laughed, it is simply contagious.
There was some sort of innocent and pure bliss her eyes carried, like copper against metal.
I gave her a reassuring smile and went upstairs to change, then soon after, sleep.
I love the quiet sense of rest. It is one of the only aspects that bring me into a state of relaxation.
I have always felt a sort of tranquility upon sleeping, although I love waking up in the crack of dawn, it is simply one of the best parts of the day.
It occasionally makes me miss being a kid; being able to fall asleep in a parent's loving and protective arms. Ever so often I miss my dad, a brave fellow; drafted and died in war, he was my motivation—my family is my motivation to keep going.
My thoughts are interrupted by a wave of sleepiness, I drift off to sleep after a few minutes.
YOU ARE READING
Remedy 07
Historical Fiction(Quick read) Renowned scientist, Dean Miller, had recently discovered the potential cure to the Spanish flu of 1918, and is ready to reveal it to the world and his flu-ridden sister. However, Erick Foster, his associate, has plans that clash with De...
