Comfort Food

The house waits, alert, as I turn the key, “I'm here, I'm home, it's only me” I call. The house is strangely quiet now, it greets me with a lukewarm sigh The house that once created warmth within waits expectantly for children's laughter. But only echoes of the past remain, as it waits for my daughter to come in. I enter, defiantly, with my shopping Drop my bags on the kitchen floor. Now to find a proper place for everything; frozen foood in freezer, in the frig, a big meringue. The doorbell rings, in walks my son bringing fish and chips with salt and vinegar on.