A World Called Home

My home is an escape from reality, and the door to my room is a portal to a different world. This world is where my stuffies live and I say good night and good morning to them. Without a doubt I am the glorious leader of this ethereal world, which makes me unquestionably free. During the day I hide my little imperfections, but when I get home I can be my truest self. Apart from this, my home is like the 5 senses. If home were a sight it would be a proud and ecstatic sunset falling over the crisp peaks. Whereas a smell would be the fresh dinners my parents make every night. If home was a taste it would be Persian food, Persian food brings my family together because we are from a long line of pure Persians. Following taste is touch. If home were a touch it would be the softest blanket in the world because it provides the comfort of home’s comfort. If home were a sound it would be a loving and hopeful symphony twirling around all the happy memories. In my home I can express my feelings freely and peacefully. A home can be big or small, an apartment or a house, but a home is not made of bricks and stones, a home is made out of a foundation called love with support beams called kindness.