One to many chances

Coming "Home"

       So we made it through our cross country move, with barely any words. Sometimes dad would give me a little, "What do you want to eat.." but nothing more than that really. But we finally made it to our new house, after like what seemed to be days upon days of silence and writing. I liked it that way though.
      The house was kinda small, but it was only for me and dad so it was fine. It was a tan bricked house, with black shingles and a dark brown door. It had a weeping willow in the front yard, which I loved.  It also had some bushes blooming these really pretty blue flowers along the front of the house. As I walked in and explored what I would now call my "home" I saw it only really had one story (aside from the basement and attic of corse). I found the bedroom I wanted, and put all my boxes in it. My room had a large walk in closet that I loved. I help dad move my bed into my room and I started arranging how I wanted it.
    As I finally finished about two two hours later, I start at my new room.
    "Please let this be the last move.." I say to myself, then drift away into my thoughts..