The house I left behind still looks the same today. The street where my house stands also appears unchanged. Although this street reminds me of past relationships that ended when I left the city, its warm glow just before sunset is striking. I never appreciated this street's beauty before, but today it feels different.
Inside the house, an elderly man wearing reading glasses was engrossed in the news when my footsteps at the front door distracted him. He adjusted his glasses, looked carefully, and after a few seconds, realized it was his daughter who had left the house in anger after graduating and never returned. His face remained expressionless, devoid of emotion.
The old lady, who was cooking for her son in the kitchen, suddenly emerged and, overcome with emotion, tightly hugged me. I truly missed this warm hug. Before I could say anything, she began crying, and I felt terrible and guilty. I had left home in anger, and it had been 10 years.
After some conversation with my mother, I sat down at the dinner table with my brother and her. However, the old man didn't want to eat with me, then or now. For him, his opinions always took precedence over anyone's happiness. Yes, he is a selfish and arrogant old man.
I didn't want to come back, but at some point, I felt lonely at work and even in my room. I miss many things that I'll never get back. After dinner, I stood in front of my house. From a distance, I spotted the old man smoking a cigarette while standing at the main gate, looking up at the full moon that already shine brightly than before in the sky.
