Home is Where the Hearts Are

Pausing at the front door I rested my hand on the heart-shaped door knob. Much of this was my fault. If I hadn’t left, I could have prevented the house’s decline. Hopefully, it hadn’t been gutted.

The house was not as I remembered it. Time had changed it. The remaining windows were laden with dust, the corners adorned with spider-spun drapery. The others were broken, shattered by kids that didn’t know better. If they had been aware of what the house represented, of it’s history, they would have shown more respect, or at least a healthy amount of fear.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. “It won’t happen again. I’ve returned and this time I won’t let them take me away. Redmond’s Reach will remember the stories about ‘the old house on the hill’, and those stories will pale next to the new stories that we will write together.”

I unlocked the door and pushed it open. Taking a deep breath, I crossed the threshold. As I did so, I could feel myself smiling, my first real smile in ten years.

The Doctor had returned.

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