Drabble Challenge: Home
Heart to Heart
His mother gone, the house was no longer what it had been: his home. His little room--it was she who had placed his bed under the window where he could smell the sea and look at the stars. She who listened to his prayers nightly, in silence, and kissed him, heart speaking to heart. There had been little need for words.
He had been homeless after her death. Lost, in a way, for though the ship on which he had worked his way across the Atlantic should have felt like a kind of home, it did not. There was no soul that spoke to his, no eyes that saw him as anything more than the Cabin Boy.
And then, the horrendous, wrenching disaster that nearly cost him everything—and the waking to the vision that said far more than her words conveyed: "I'll take care of you, Will."
From that moment, he had a home again. No matter what she was, no matter what he was. His heart was hers; his dream of home was in her eyes.
And, miracle of miracles, beyond all sense and reason, it was true. "I do," she said. And he was home indeed.