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On the Drive Home

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I remember driving by that house all the time. 
I couldn't tell you what color it was. 
I can't tell you the street name. 
All I know is that is was on the drive home. 

Last year was a hard year for me,
high school was taking a hit,
family issues back home. 
All I know was I made it through. 

One day I remember the color of the house clearly. 
Black. 
The skeleton of the house hung without its skin. 
Ashes had fallen on the lawn like a darkened snow globe. 
When I drove by I could smell whatever was left of it. 
All I know was that the family inside it was safe. 

It was a bright summer. 
Not weather-wise, my town had gotten used to a blanket of fog. 
But I was doing okay. 
Last year was erased. 
All I knew was that this was going to be a good year. 

In the fall the house was a new color. 
White. 
Almost sparkly white. 
The windows had curtains behind them. 
The grass was an almost unnatural green. 
And a car was parked out front. 
All I know was that the house was glowing. 

This year is going well. 
I'm seeing the world through rose colored glasses. 
It's starting to feel like a different school. 
And I'm not who I was last year. 
All I know is, I'm happy now. 



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