Status: Back in action!! I am currently writing more chapters, so be on the lookout!
A Little More Personal
Back Home
I rolled over on the large bed; the light was different, so unlike the rays that normally streamed through my windows in the morning. Today was already warm even though the clock on the bedside table read only 8:31 a.m.
"Taresa, darlin', you up yet?"
"Yes, Mama."
My mother poked her head around the door and smiled. "Come on. Breakfast is on the table."
"Alright. I'm coming."
She exited the room, and I rose to my feet. The sun blinded me once I opened the curtains, and I blinked rapidly. The town I'd grown up in was still the same; it felt eery to see the houses I'd spent eighteen years staring at, identical to the way I remembered them being. It was a feeling similar to the Twilight Zone, only there was no creepy music to accompany the strange view. I turned away from the window and headed down the stairs. My father was sipping from a coffee mug and reading the newspaper, just like he'd done when I was a child and then teenager. I kissed his cheek and sat at my seat. My mother came in from the laundry room; she began piling food onto our plates. De ja vu hit me like a tidal wave, as this had been our routine only a few years back.
"Thank you, Jenny."
"Yeah. Thanks, Mama."
"You're both welcome. Frank, are you going to Neil's today?"
"Of course. We still have a few more things to do to the old engine."
"Neil?" I echoed.
Mama smiled. "Oh, you've never met Neil and his family, have you?"
"No, I haven't."
"Their son isn't here, Jen. Remember?"
"That's right. Maybe when he comes to visit, you can meet him."
"So you and John are over?" my father asked gruffly.
"Yes, Daddy."
"He was a good kid."
"Well, he was, but he wasn't a good man."
"You're better off without him anyway."
I finished my breakfast in silence; my mother gathered our dishes and carried them to the sink to wash them. My father slid on his boots and left the house after kissing us good-bye. Once I got bored with sitting on the couch for ten minutes, I decided to take a shower. The pale yellow walls, the large fluffy towels on the white rack, the white linoleum floors . . . all familiar from my childhood. I stepped into the shower and immediately felt the hot water begin to relax my muscles. A sigh escaped me as the water continued running.
"Taresa, darlin', you up yet?"
"Yes, Mama."
My mother poked her head around the door and smiled. "Come on. Breakfast is on the table."
"Alright. I'm coming."
She exited the room, and I rose to my feet. The sun blinded me once I opened the curtains, and I blinked rapidly. The town I'd grown up in was still the same; it felt eery to see the houses I'd spent eighteen years staring at, identical to the way I remembered them being. It was a feeling similar to the Twilight Zone, only there was no creepy music to accompany the strange view. I turned away from the window and headed down the stairs. My father was sipping from a coffee mug and reading the newspaper, just like he'd done when I was a child and then teenager. I kissed his cheek and sat at my seat. My mother came in from the laundry room; she began piling food onto our plates. De ja vu hit me like a tidal wave, as this had been our routine only a few years back.
"Thank you, Jenny."
"Yeah. Thanks, Mama."
"You're both welcome. Frank, are you going to Neil's today?"
"Of course. We still have a few more things to do to the old engine."
"Neil?" I echoed.
Mama smiled. "Oh, you've never met Neil and his family, have you?"
"No, I haven't."
"Their son isn't here, Jen. Remember?"
"That's right. Maybe when he comes to visit, you can meet him."
"So you and John are over?" my father asked gruffly.
"Yes, Daddy."
"He was a good kid."
"Well, he was, but he wasn't a good man."
"You're better off without him anyway."
I finished my breakfast in silence; my mother gathered our dishes and carried them to the sink to wash them. My father slid on his boots and left the house after kissing us good-bye. Once I got bored with sitting on the couch for ten minutes, I decided to take a shower. The pale yellow walls, the large fluffy towels on the white rack, the white linoleum floors . . . all familiar from my childhood. I stepped into the shower and immediately felt the hot water begin to relax my muscles. A sigh escaped me as the water continued running.