Chapter 10 - The Warmth of Home
Spring arrived, washing away the bitter memory of that freezing winter night.
I retired from active duty, taking a comfortable civilian contracting job on the base that allowed me to be home every night. The house had been entirely restored. The cheap modern furniture was thrown in a dumpster, replaced by my mother’s beloved antiques.
I stood on the back porch, holding a mug of black coffee, watching the morning sun filter through the oak trees.
My mother was in the garden, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, humming softly to herself as she planted bright yellow marigolds. She was healthy, sharp-witted, and entirely free from the chemical haze Elena had forced upon her.
She stood up, dusting the soil from her gardening gloves, and walked over to the porch.
“Coffee smells good, Daniel,” she smiled, using my childhood nickname with a warmth that healed the deepest parts of my soul.
“I’ll pour you a cup, Mom,” I said, returning her smile.
May you like
We sat together on the porch swing. Through the living room window, I could see my father’s burial flag, perfectly restored in a new oak display case, resting proudly on the mantle.
The storm had passed. The monsters were locked in cages. And the house was finally, permanently, a home again.
