Awaited Reunion
The creaking of the old, narrow, oak staircase was something that she missed from her years away from home. The farmhouse, old, white colonial style, was exactly how she had remembered from nearly twenty grueling years ago. Trees, weeds, and vegetation, in general, were closer to reclaiming the house now. The weeds slowly creeped up the sides of the colonial, eating their way into the siding, happily foraging through life. The ancient white paint was beginning to come off in flakes, cracking and tearing. Still though, it was nearly identical to what it was.
