There was a place I once called my home. It was in a small town; not a lot of people.

This isn’t a joke it was a tiny run down place. I can’t help but think of it sometimes, because it is in my mind.
Who would know that a fourteen year old boy would still have a mini fantasy since I was 11 years old! (Ok, fine: maybe I was nine.) I didn’t have the greatest mind of a dreamer but I did have part of one. Sometimes, I wish I would lapse into a coma for a while so that I would be able to stay longer in that place. Heh, who knows? Maybe one day, it’ll happen.

My home consisted of just me and someone that liked me as much as I liked her. I would like for there to be another home for me in another fantasy just as this home came to me in my own little bubble, and it would feel just as real as my first dream home this is something I desire and do not know when it will happen. Just I wish I could stay in this dream for either twenty-four or forty-eight hours. Just for one whole day!

Maybe I could dream of a dream home to make into my own reality.