Homecoming

Usually any of the doors on the landing were fair game, but not tonight. Not after one of those exhausting days where emotion drains energy faster than running a marathon.

I let them be.

Needing something to aid sleep, I seek warm milk instead.

I stop in the doorway. The waning moonlight lights a mother and son watching the wind bring life to the oak.

"I never brought life to this house Jeff, not like you and Lucille." She smiles, "you filled it."

"You did mother, it just took a generation. Come home."

Their hands entwine.

And I retreat.