Todays’ assignment: Today, tell us about the home you lived in when you were twelve. The twist: pay attention to — and vary — your sentence lengths.
Last night I dreamt I returned to… Part 1
Perhaps it all began the day I stood outside my door, my previous door, my ex-door, my late door, my long-lost door, my unforgettable door, my beloved door, my childhood door, my magical door, my timeless door, my door. My time portal.
How do you call a door that was once yours and is now someone else’s? A door that shut out the rest of the world and kept you safe and warm and happy; a door that closed in the smell of fairy cakes, and toast, and butter, and twirls of smoke melting into the sitting-room ceiling, and cut grass wafting in from the garden… and my mother’s laughter, and my father’s quiet smiles as he hid behind the broadsheet and peeked his eyes over the top to greet me when I came in throwing my satchel on the floor and rushing into the kitchen to hug mum, who was always bending over cooking something delicious in the oven.
Never more. Never again. Never.
Last night I dreamt I returned to… the home I lived in when I was twelve. Someone else was living there. It was no longer my house. There was no point in going back, so I stood outside the door for a while… remembering, and then I turned and left.
End of today’s assignment.
I’ve tried hard not to be too sentimental, or present a description of a house. I’ve also concentrated on varying sentence length, but I have mixed feelings about how it’s worked out. What do you think?
Have a look at some of the other posts
I think you did extremely well. I love the opening to Rebecca, too! I dream quite a bit about the house i grew up in…not sure why, but the dreams are always good ones.
LikeLike
I really enjoyed reading your post. It is about feeling isn’t it when we think about home. 🙂
LikeLike
Hi, Luccia!
How are you doing today, lady? I see you’re at it again: Writing 101 has you keeping your followers entertained and engaged in your writings! Very interesting that you formulated this post into a dream about times past. Wonderful memories! Thank you so much for sharing.
~ Angela
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Angela! Thank you for dropping by and commenting! I didnt want to describe the house I lived in, so I tried another take on the topic!
LikeLike
I couldn’t find the”like” button, but here’s a comment. Liked the creative bent you took with this, poetic prose? Thanks for the inspiration.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! 🙂
LikeLike
I love the first paragraph 🙂
And I like that you didn’t describe the actual house. You paint a wonderful picture by showing how the place felt, how it affected the senses. Which to me, is what home is about.
I think you made the varying sentence lengths work. Well done 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
I love this. I dream of the house I grew up in quite a lot. But to think of someone else being there, as you described so well, is a different feeling altogether. Thank you
LikeLike
Thank you for reading and commenting. Yes, I agree it’s strange to imagine someone else in a house in which we lived…. I often dream of ‘being’ in my ‘old’ houses and feeling like an intruder… it feels creepy!
LikeLike