A Better Place, Home

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It was supposed to be a safe haven. A place to run. Somewhere that your shoulders could retreat. A clean, quiet place where you could relax. A place to run from the wilds of your world. It was supposed to be a want, to fulfill a need. “A better place to be” you would say. Home.

It would wind up to be another problem. An obligation in your mind. Hauling was too much of an effort. Frightening.

It’s too bad. It was there only to offer you love and peace.

If you choose to return, call first. You know my history. We both fear it. It’s one of the torments you face. It’s one of the torments I live.


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