She took the last train back home through the pink
evening light.
She had been alone for far too long, she knew she needed
respite.
Solace in the form of too much noise and an over
compensating mother who brought hot tea in giant, cracked old mugs, even on
scorching summer days like today.
She had been missing, Lost in the mire of adulthood and
responsibility, teetering too close to the edge, so it was time to go home,
time to regroup, to burst into flames like a phoenix, and have her rebirth
aided by homemade dinners and jam tarts. It’s funny how you always have to go
back the beginning to make a new start.
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