(DESCRIPTIVE) ‘A New Home for Me’, by: Aditya Dharmendra Barki, Sec 2 Passion

The antique stone tiles glistened and roasted in the mid-morning as I approached the front steps of my porch. The weather was frigid and cold in spite of the gentle sunlight that streamed through the windows of my new residence. Trudging my luggage up the sidewalk was somewhat excruciating as the small wheels clashed and collided with the bristly cut path. Other than that, the area seemed benign in comparison to my old place. 

A tender breeze blew through the sleepy neighbourhood. Children could be heard laughing and giggling towards the playground and the twitter of birds were carried by the supple wind among the hefty crowns of the evergreens that decorated the thoroughfare.

My house was surrounded with lush deciduous trees that loomed over the lawn. Despite having not aged yet, the house retained a few cracks that creeped along the sides and jagged edges, slowly eroding the juvenile sanctuary. Some appeared on the steps that led to the doorstep and the cracks would crunch under my soles as I anxiously hiked up my luggage.

It was pleasant to live here, since my last home was sandwiched between two other buildings. Furthermore, I did not have to suffer the ear-piercing cacophony of traffic whenever I slid open a window. 

Here, the vast, blue sky was dotted with white fluffy clouds and complemented by the singsong of birds soaring into the sky. On the other hand, my bygone livelihood always looked dull and congested, even depressing at times as grey storm clouds often lingered above. I felt like I could drown in all the musty smoke. Be deafened by the constant mechanical clamour and be blinded by the miserable skies overcast. 

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A feeling of fondness and comfort washed over me when I centred upon the garden, which held a large swimming pool that glistened in the sunlight. From how the rays of light bent and illuminated the water, I could envision embers of flame crackling in my ears as I chattered with loved ones over a summer barbecue beside the glimmering pool. I explored the vast halls of the house, marvelling at every step. The floorboards were made of smooth mahogany and the walls were of brick veneer. The roof adorned tiles of a rich vermillion reflected from countless sunsets.

When I pushed open a window, I was greeted by an open meadow that stretched beyond the ridged fences of the backyard. As the humid weather neared, moths, flies, gnats, and neighbours from the distant forest flocked and flew rampant to the house like a moth to fire, sheltering and warming them throughout the drizzling monsoon.

Whenever the verdant trees flourished and the aromal flora bloomed, the gardens would be littered with pink flowers and at night, a magnificent display of bioluminescent sparks was held by fireflies that waltz upon the long grass. In this quaint buzzing neighbourhood alone, endless natural wonders would await me here, absent in my old home.

The writer’s actual house, sketched

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