SCABs

Home – By @caminobbe

By Camille Noble

 

Home

I just left London and Brixton with an empty suitcase and a head full of positive emotions. Excitation, joy and euphoria.

I am doing a hop back home, after two months far away from my house. During this time I have many new habits without really forgetting the old ones and miss them. I have never spent so much time away from home. And even if I start to get used to it, I think every day of the place which has been my house for the last 16 years.

 

I crossed this long tunnel under the channel with success. All around me people eating potato chips creating in the carriage a matured cheddar smell, but it didn’t stop me, I finally came back. When I pass the door, I felt so well and peaceful, a great feeling. Home is more a feeling than a place. I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about. When you feel a too big happiness in your chest.

 

My favorite room to rediscover was obviously my bedroom. I was waiting for this for weeks and I felt like it was waiting for me too. I swear the teddy bear  on my bed looked at me right in the eyes when I came in the room. I felt even happier. This is my place, the place that has been the witness of the main part of my history and which encloses many of my memories. This is the place where I’m feeling the best.

 

At night, I don’t have the same beautiful view as my usual londonian room with all the buildings and the lights that marvel me every night. To be honest, I don’t even have a view here in the evening because there is not really any lighting in my street. But in the darkness I can guess the different bushes in my garden with the big cherry tree in front of my window. In the background on the left the forest and a parc on the right. This is probably worth much more than all the illuminated buildings of the world for me. In London, I don’t feel bad. I feel even really good. But you know that there is no place like home.

 

I didn’t tell the best part yet. I woke up this morning with a fresh cake on the kitchen table, homemade and made just for me by my mom. She has cooked this cake so many times but it has never tasted as good as this morning. It’s my home but right now everything looks, smells, tastes or feels not the same as usual. Everything is an occasion of delight today. And each time that I see an object in my house I’m asking myself if I will have enough room in my suitcase.

 

I already have started to fill it to bring back to London a part of my home with me, because I’m back home only for 36 hours.  Why do we have to leave something to realize how much it’s special and precious ?

 

 

 

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