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    Short Story: Welcome Home Essay

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    John buzzed on my apartment-door. My heart was pounding out of my chest, my knees felt as it they were going to buckle, and I was shaking as I opened the door. I had a mad, mad, mad crush on this guy. He was, for lack of a better word, well favored. The second he got my hallway, he put my face in his hands and kissed me passionately and deeply. I looked into those deep ocean blue eyes. They were a-fire with passion. His face of sharp contours, it looked as his face were sculpted and pared to perfection.

    For not to mention his tousled black hair, which was thick and curly and his strong hands, held in mine as he stared deep into my eyes. I momentarily lost my breath. I couldn’t help but blush. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Barbershop was the word I thought off when he came in to the room. He smelled so manly. His warm and beautiful body hugged me. I was the luckiest girl in the world. I wanted to be even luckier. I wanted to stay with him every day and every hour. My dream and my hope was that he thought the same. But did he, really? How could I be sure?

    I couldn’t quite understand why he chose me. I was just me. Not good-looking, Small eyes, just like a Japanese but 100% Norwegian. I had a pear shaped body. And I wasn’t funny at all. But I had to do this. I couldn ´t live like this anymore. My heart was pounding out of control. When I was with John I felt alive. What a confident. The man I met at the petrol station two years ago. He saw that I hadn’t money for gas, so he helped me, the well built man in slim fit jeans and a black hoodie. He became mine, a least that was what I hoped for ¦

    My nerves were out of control. It was a strange feeling to be nervous. I always had control. I knew everything, and I absolutely knew what people thought about me. But John had always been a kind of mystery. He didn ´t say that much. I pinched my arm, while I was staring at John’s beautiful deep ocean blue eyes. I couldn ´t get enough of them. They are really beautiful. I had to ask him now. This was the right moment. As I opened my mouth, I heard “DINK DUNK PUNK DINK DUNK DINK PUNK . I couldn ´t believe it. What was happening?! Right now, at 6:30 pm, I heard birds.

    Birds peeped too much in the mornings; they always tried to make me wake me up. I just rolled over and covered my head with my red blanket. After a while I forced myself to get up. The gorgeous sun rose in its rightful place in the blue sky. I moaned and walked towards the kitchen to make some coffee. On the wall there hung a sign; “welcome home . At that moment I remembered my dream. It wasn’t reality. My wonderboy whom I was supposed to propose to, was not here; he wasn ´t even real. This was my reality. My home. Alone. Perhaps I should go to the petrol station. With my car ¦ With no money ¦

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    Short Story: Welcome Home Essay. (2018, Aug 15). Retrieved from https://artscolumbia.org/short-story-welcome-home-56059/

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