Hillview

My Dad and I head out to my childhood home that my family still rents out. Today the house is between renters and we are here to fix the many miniscule maintenance problems. As we approach the house, I remember it being further down the road, but this was definitely my house. We park in the steep driveway as a feeling of an odd awkward comfort comes over me. As we walk to the front door we pass a dark stain, left there from my sister and me pouring salt on a poor innocent slug causing it to melt. While my dad took his tools to fix up whatever he needed I decided to walk around this familiar old place.
Many memories were shuffling through my head all at once. I was now in the kitchen that used to smell of mashed potatoes that would just melt in my mouth. My sister and I would watch television until we would hear those commanding yet welcoming words that dinner is ready. My sister and I wouldn’t bother to turn the televis...