The house is waiting with no lights on, no fire lit.
Gripped in the approaching darkness gathering fast
Homeward bound hurries the owner, feeling as cold as can be.
Fumbling the key impatiently into the icy lock, brushing off snow, before stepping into the sheltered porch.
Lights on, slipping off and hanging up coat.
Stepping out of boots, and into slippers and jacket still cold to touch.
You make your way to the fireplace, to ignite the fire allowing warmth and comfort to seep slowly everywhere.
The waiting kettle starts singing its merry song, and you are once again safely back home.
©️2026 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Image by image by AI generated
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