... he walked a long way, from one hill to another. He enjoyed the walk at first, the ups and downs, the curves and the crevices, the falls and the learning... the house on the hill is home... he knows how it feels to be there, among his kids, their laughter, their hugs, the cheer of their faces... the warmth of his wife's embrace and the assurance of her being. And when the night settles and the cold threatens, he would still be warm, in quilts of cotton and love... he watches it from the distance. It gives him strength to climb...
Its evening now, its getting cold... and the night is encroaching telling him he's all alone. The warmth that he's been dreaming of is in the distance... not now at all. The night's encroaching... and as his sight blurs, the cold whispers to him "You are all alone.... actually".
He looks up. He sees his home no more... as darkness encloses upon him, he does not remember the road to home anymore... despair sinks into him... and he wishes he'd be taken home.....
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