Ficlets

homesick.

“well, we’re here!” my mom said.
fantastic. we’ve arrived at a 70’s bachelor pad. how exciting.
“how do you like it?” my dad asked, hopeful.
“ehh…” was my response.
“hmm. you’ll get used to it,” he said.
i sure had better. i walked into the out-dated, 70’s retro-style-house, my combat boots clunking every step of the way.
“do you have to wear those?” my mom asked, carrying a box of my mostly-black clothes.
“do you have to wear THOSE ?” i gestured to her turquoise power-suit. she gave me a slightly dirty look, but i didn’t care. ‘so, this is it.’ i glanced around my new bedroom, the light pink ballerina wallpaper burning my eyes. ‘well, looks like some re-decorating is in order here,’ i thought. i set down the box i was carrying on the wooden floor and sat down. i took out a picture of my old friends and put it on the white nightstand. they were all smiling and laughing in that picture. sighh i miss them already. i played with my bracelets, trying to think of a way to make this move work.

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