The Home They Loved

It wasn’t later today when June got really, really hot. This was the hottest month of the year. The weatherman stated. “ Boy it’s hot today folks! “ . The television spoke out loud. She was in her small kitchen where the kitchen had a very small circle like table that was indeed left over and carried on from the previous owners of the house and was given almost like as a gift to the buyers. Which were, off course my parents. My parents bought the house back five years ago. It was honestly a surprise for me. I had no idea what’s so ever. The house was beautiful. My mom definitely has a way with words and furniture. The house did not stand alone.

It matter off fact, stood with neighboring homes. One to the left and one to the right of the home that my parents owned. Not only that, but there was a street across the house where other homes resided and stood quietly like as though the homes were untouched. Merely left alone. To its owners who lived there.

Not all homes were singled out. They weren’t left alone. Matter of fact, they were beautiful, and almost someone would say, antique homes. These homes my parents lived in were entitled to freedom. They belonged in a social life environment.

The beauty of the homes is what made my parents buy them. Some of them were, off course bigger than others, but it wasn’t a competition if one was double the size of the other. Competition to the owner wasn’t a big deal. Some homeowners lived there for years. Some were doctors, lawyers. Professors and others. My parents were just simple truck drivers and my mom worked for the court house.