Home

Home is a book, flipping through the pages of life. Home is an ocean, with the wave guiding me. Home is a forest, always growing far and near. Home is like a sketch, it’s never going to be perfect no matter how hard you try. Home smells like Mom’s home-made Khachapuri. Home looks like the huge snow mountains in my backyard in winter. Home smells like the flowers Mom keeps all over the house. Home looks like the trees along the houses. Home is the sound of basketballs dribbling through my window. Home sounds like kids sledding down the hills in my backyard. Home looks like the bare trees and orange leaves fallen in autumn.