Oh Gosh!
By: Nicole Busch
The telephone rang; Abhishek is calling, echoing through my
familiar home.
My home being like my safe haven, protected and safe,
nothing can come as harm.
A rainbow sprinkler sitting precautious in the front yard, a
grey kitten with white strips in the back yard.
Cello music overpowering the ground level of my house, from
the front to back.
A famous portrait of King Henry VIII hung at the top of the
stairs, brilliant.
An informational book about Paul Revere and George
Washington sits in the old and antique bookshelf, fractured with rust and
cracks.
Cake crumbs and dried up silly string rest on the dining
room table from mom’s birthday, my personal hero.
Leftover chicken, corn and macaroni and cheese, the smell is
so fresh.
Walking to the coffee table, magazines on Barack Obama,
Atlantis, and the IRS lay flat on the surface.
One specific one about Hawaii catches my eye.
I close my eyes and picture all of the luaus and snorkeling.
Mermaids and fish swimming around me, coming up for a
breath of air and seeing a lighthouse in the far distance.
Walking back to the beach, sand buckets and sandcastles, stepping
on the sand is like stepping on hot rocks in the Sahara desert.
Kites flying above my head, high up to the clouds, children
laughing sipping on their sodas with bendable straws.
Suddenly the powerful smell of paint from a blue paint can
awakens me from my magical dream.
I open my eyes to the sight of a classroom.
Sitting in front of me are a chalkboard, a can opener
sitting next to the unopened can, a brush, and icicles dripping down from
outside edges.
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