Clearing the place out, putting the space up for sale. In a street teeming with illuminations, it was the only unlit building: the darkness highlighting your absence.
I roamed empty rooms, picturing Christmases past. Dad drunk, waking us up, grabbing gifts stashed in the attic. Tumbling down onto the landing, bellowing “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
A million memories held within the whitewashed walls.
Now, I peek through someone else’s window, spy grinning kids decorating their tree.
Imagine you inside with a mile-wide smile; satisfied that this house remains a home to a happy family.