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My Fathers House

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Submitted By SaherKalra
Words 456
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“Faster, faster… come on!” I urged under my breath, pedaling furiously. A thunderstorm had started, I was soaked to my skin, my stomach was growling and yet my bicycle refused to move faster. Getting back home was quite literally an uphill task as it was on top of a hill, sitting like a cream colored cherry on top of a green colored hill. The rain was not helping my quest to get back home in time for a nourishing dinner and a full night’s sleep, both of which had been recently denied to me due to the pressures of my new job. Avoiding the puddles formed in the potholes of the road, I made my way forward slowly but steadily. Thoughts of my father crept into my mind. His smile, his booming laughter, the fierce frown when someone, anyone, told him what to do were my most vivid memories. He had departed for his next life now; a tumor in his lungs made sure of that. Even though it had now been a year since his death, I still missed him. My mother had left me and my father when I was a mere 3-year old girl, impressionable and then, heart-broken. I have never trusted anyone completely ever since. I huffed and puffed up the hill and when I was close enough, I saw something which made my blood run cold. A streak of lightning. A fire. On the very top of the hill. I cycled like I had never cycled before. Memories of my father building the house swirled into my mind, too fast to separate. Panic seized my throat. I could not let it burn down. It was my only tangible connection to him. I felt my bicycle giving up. I got off, threw it to the side and ran like the very devil was at my feet. I reached the tall fence around the house and saw the flames. I doubt I was breathing then; the very prospect of the house burning down brought me to a different level of panic altogether. I threw the gate open and looked. For the house was safe and sound. But the empty and flammable stable behind it probably did not share the same fate. Running to the back of the house, I saw the flames now dying gradually. The stable was not a stable anymore; it was pieces of charred wood. Something had protected the house. I knew then that my father still loved and watched over me. I sank into the ashes with that realization and stayed that way till the morning rays touched my face; heralding a new day, a new beginning and the building of an imminent new stable.

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