A Halmark Moment
It had been a long time since he had been home - back to the large, chilly wood panelled rooms of the vicarage. In fact, it was the first time he had returned since the morning he had turned 18. On that day he had woken up at 6am, showered, dressed, thrown all that was his in his tattered rucksack and, without remorse or regret, walked out of the front door. He had never intended to return - had spent years finding a place for himself in the city and a life that he could truly call his own. And he had been successful. He had a modest flat, a good job that paid very well and a life he enjoyed. But, of course, as was always the way with the best laid plans of mice and men, he had been pulled back. Back to the sterile, unchanging collection of rooms that had mapped his childhood.