After years away we returned. After decades, in fact, we were finally allowed to go back to where we
had once lived. Before.
Everyone had something, at least one thing, they wanted still to be there.
The thing that they would make a beeline for, that had been dreamed about during the time away
as we waited for home to be declared safe.
For me it was the view. To just be able to sit once more with tea, a biscuit, another person and just
watch and talk and talk and watch as the world drifts on happily.
Pure bliss.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt (see here for other stories):
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
