Home
My bestie and I have
different views of home.
She lived in the same
house for seventy plus years,
the same house her parents
and grandparents lived in.
When a woman she worked
for died and willed her a house,
I suggested she move in
there since the house if very nice.
She looked at me as if I suggested
killing her alpacas.
“This my home,” she said,
with great conviction.
I grew up in the same
house for eighteen years
and couldn’t wait to get
out and see the world.
I have lived in three
states, and traveled to all fifty,
three other continents and
several foreign countries.
“Oh,” I said, “To me, home
is where the toothbrush is.”
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