The Home Beneath The House

821 Words Sep 12th, 2016 4 Pages
The Home Beneath the House There’s just something about home that is so comforting and innocent. Maybe it’s the great oak tree in the backyard that you used to swing on when you were young. Or maybe it’s the kitchen where memories were made while making a homemade pizza with the whole family. Regardless, it doesn’t matter what it was it’s just something we all could call home. When I reflect on home, I see the giant pine trees lining up alongside the vacant gravel road. As I pull into my long gravel driveway, I hear the sounds of the rocks hurling from the underneath the tires and the chatters of all of the dogs buzzing through my ears. Looking into the huge front yard with all of flamboyant flowers welcoming me back home. I see the dogs running towards the car waiting to greet me. Just when I step out of the car I’m welcomed by the fresh aroma of the outdoor world. The freedom of not having to worry about being seen overwhelms me. It’s really enjoyable to be able to live out in the middle of nowhere. As I walk up the flight of the stained wooden stairs to our hand built porch I see the front door come into view. As my hand firmly grasps the handle and pushes open the door the welcoming scent envelops me in an earnest hug. While I review the room I see all the memories and flashbacks flood my eyes. The wooden coffee table I used to dance on in the center of the room. The couches against the wall where we would sit and watch movies and play games together. The door to my…
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