Page 24 - Cornice_Grade 10

The House of Memories
o
u
e
e
H
h
o
r
s
e
o
f
M
T T The House of Memories
I made my way down the cobbled street of
karyabinayak, the same street I once rode my
bike on every single evening without fail. “Dinner
is ready! Come home” my mother would call
from the garden of our three story red brick
house. It stood in front of me now, tall and
imposing. The bricks had started to fade away
into a dull, copper colour, but the memories

inside were still livid, bright as a burning flame.

I stepped foot into the hall, the floorboards below me creaking with age. It
was where my sister and I would dance and sing for our parents. They
would let out a tired laugh after a long day at work, then pull us into their
open arms as we all settled for a big family cuddling session on the luscious

velvet sofa. My eyes directed me to the sofa now, and I saw before me an
apparition of a happy family enjoying each other's company. I sat on the
sofa, looking around as long forgotten memories washed over me like
waves. I felt tears roll down my cheeks as I breathed in the familiar smell

of carpet dust and rusting furniture. The carpet looked older than ever,
tousled and stained with drinks we split as children.

The curtains, now a light shade of pink, was
once a magnificent crimson colour, its shine
lost due to years and years of washing. I still

remember the day we bought them, an
impulsive decision made by a family who was
not so financially stable at the time. But we
were all suckers for bright, colourful pieces of
decorations for our own mini palace we called
home.