Homecoming

Thirteen years was a long time. Had it really been that long? As the sun brightened, it felt as if it were only yesterday that he had sat at the window waiting for the morning bustle. He could hear the trundle of the bakery vans, the shutters of shops rolling up, the cacophony of the birds. A creeper had made its way up the side of the window. Now there was only a long black stain in its place. The paint on the wall had faded. Nature had taken its toll on the house. It had grown old. Oil stains where fuel had leaked from the old car on to the concrete below were still there. But the place had remained parched since. It was as if the ground was waiting for more spills. It was as if the house was waiting for its family to return. The sun hit the ground in front of the house. It looked as if the house gave a smile. Had it recognised him? The scene blurred in front of him. Home sweet home. This was where he was born. This was where he had grown up.
A call on his mobile informed him that the contractor had arrived. He saw the labourers coming with their pickaxes and hammers. He turned to have one last look at the house. A single word escaped him. "Sorry." Thirteen years was a long time. AbNQ