You Can’t Go Home

Remember last week when I was gushing about the joy of tweaking a sentence, a scene-and making it just right? Well, my ending isn’t quite there yet.

Last night, while driving home, I realized part of the reason. When Lilyan returns [REDACTED], nothing has changed except her absence. Life happens, even when you’re not there to watch it.

After I graduated college, I went home for a visit over the holidays. As I open the front door, my step-dad calls out, “Hey, can you hold the door.”

I stepped back and watched as he carried my childhood bed frame out to the road for the trash collectors.

The frame was cracked and my parents noticed how unstable it was while changing the sheets to prepare for my visit. I spent the holiday sleeping on a mattress on the floor. When my mom had me help clean up after meals, she’d rearranged cabinets and it took me a while to put everything away. It was home, yet not.

I’d moved on and it had changed while I was gone.

So, I took that feeling and applied it to my story. It’s not perfect, but it’s a hellova lot closer.

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