Coming Home

It’s bitter sweet to come home tonight. The city is glowing hollow and the streets are bare with activity. In a way it should be an easy night to come back to life. No one to chide, nothing to go wrong. But as I got out of the taxi and walked up to the house overlooking a woodland park, the silence is deafening.

Ambrose was gone, the spot where his car usually was empty with little residence that it ever sat there. All the windows were pulled closed and a pang of gut wrenching fear overtook me. Please Jeff, be gone.

For Jeff to be left alone in a darkened house, it was terror for him. Though I couldn’t personally identify with the man, it was never a good sight to see him panicking inside.

Luckily he wasn’t, the communal areas of the house straightened. Walking about, doors were shut and windows were locked. It seemed like no one had been in the house for some time. Sinclair probably fussed over it for some time before being convinced to leave.

I couldn’t blame them for wanting to stay out, this house had a way of playing on our need to keep company with each other. It could be because we all had a hand in designing it and renovating it from the ground up. Kaylee likes to say because we are creatures who love repetition and for that to break takes all of our attention.

Either way, I didn’t have to face anyone tonight, or maybe even tomorrow. I’m surprised Jeff or Sinclair hadn’t hijacked this site, posting and re-posting their own interests on it. I do hope everyone has kept themselves and hadn’t gone off the rails. I know after the funeral, I needed to a lot more than what this city could offer.

I’m back, and hopefully just in time.

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