I had a childhood home that I still see in my dreams even though it's been 15 years it has been sold.
I loved that home. I loved every single part of that place. The ground floor which has that one corridor that's always dark no matter how sunny it is outside.
2nd floor where dada used to stay, his cane always hanging at that one spot when you enter, the strong scent of his ator which filled his room which was not too over powering.
We lived on the third floor and I loved every single corner of that place. The huge living area which covered two thirds of the entire floor, the very comforting kitchen where mom used to cook and sing. The dining area where I was always seated next to my dad and then when my brother came he took that place and I happily gave that to him. My room which was weirdly a trapezium shaped one. My parents room which was filled with my mom's cosmetics and dad's perfumes.
But there was one place next to the dining room, where I could see the trees, the sky and the sunlight would hit magically illuminating the entire house. That was my most favourite spot. I even slept there on the last night before heading to Armanitola.
I hated this place. It never felt home. It took a while, and finally Armanitola felt like my home again. But this one spot here, reminds me of my old home and somehow became a favourite spot for me.
