I sat on the porch swing, swinging back and forth with a sense of anticipation. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the neighborhood. But my eyes were fixed on the road, waiting for my dad to come home.
I missed him. He had been gone for what felt like forever, off on a business trip that seemed to drag on endlessly. I longed for his presence, for his comforting smile and the sound of his laughter. The house felt empty without him, his absence looming over us like a dark cloud.
As the minutes ticked by, anxiety gnawed at my heart. Would he be home soon? Was he okay? I tried to push away the negative thoughts, focusing instead on the memories of our time together. The fishing trips, the Sunday morning pancake breakfasts, the late-night talks by the fireplace. Those moments were precious, and I craved more of them.
Finally, a familiar car pulled into the driveway. My heart leaped with joy as I ran to greet him, eager to be wrapped in his strong embrace once again. Dad was finally home. And in that moment, all was right in the world.
Image by Ai Junkie
