DaddysHomeIt only takes a minute but the stress quickly fades along with the cacophony of passing cars, drowned by the sound of rattling keys in the front door. The door sweeps open, and light hits his face.
Leaving the weight of the day behind, he embraces another load.
Fourteen kilograms of pure joy. Daddy’s home.

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6 thoughts on “Home

  1. Dolly says:

    I can remember my dad coming home when I was a kid as a happy moment. It’s been a long time. He’s been gone for several years, and I’m no longer anything close to young.

  2. colonialist says:

    I enjoy the challenge of compressed fiction and found this site on a search.
    here is my contribution on the topic ‘HOME’.

    Helen’s previous forest walks had been on summer nights. Now, dry leaves scrunched underfoot – and then, also, from behind her!
    She kept swinging round. Nothing.
    The sounds followed as Helen started back. Panic increased. Run!
    Great the relief on safely reaching home.
    Duty completed, the protectively shadowing wolfhound returned to his own home next door.

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