Soon I reached the red brick house where I’d grown up. The trees in the front yard were huge. When my father planted them, they were saplings.
I parked in the driveway, walked to the front door and knocked. But no one was home.
I looked around. The color of the trim, the landscaping, even the front door were all different.
All of a sudden, I felt out of place, like I didn’t belong there.
I took off and never went back.