My Home

I had a vision once, seemingly so long ago. Simple and pure memories flood my gates that I have never lived before.
I saw myself on a Sunday morning, descending the stairs of a modest home. As I walk through the house  the wonderful aroma of fresh brewed coffee filled my senses and teased my palet. I turn a corner leading towards the kitchen where I see a man leaning over the counter, chopping away at some form of breakfast preparation. Sitting on the table are two cups of coffee, one half full. A smile greats me with a kiss as I lean in to hold him as he's washing a dish. Love. Home. Family.