What Home Means to Me
My home is not just a place to sleep, my home is a place where memories repeat. Walking to the front step and opening the door, I switch to relaxation time, galore. Stepping into my house, I slip off my shoes, dropping them in the place that I choose. Unpacking my bag, item by item, my whole bag is shaking. I finally find my parents in the kitchen, baking. The smell of mouthwatering treats, fresh out of the oven, leads me to a pan full of warm muffins that look scrumptious.
Gazing at the dining room, dinner is already ready. My heart starts to glimmer with appreciation. Could I be the luckiest person in the nation?
In the living room, we watch movies at night, chuckling with laughter as I grin. Through the sound, I begin to alight. My bedroom is my place to unwind and calm down, which makes me beam instead of frown. My room is not just a bed and pillow, my bedroom is a place at night where I mellow.
My home is my place to reunite with family, to sit by the burning fire, and warm up with blankets. My home will never be an overwhelming space, it will always be my warm, peaceful, and loving place.
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