Red Balloon (excerpt)

Sleep weighed heavy on her and she was a bit disoriented, but before she even opened her eyes, she knew where she was. Or, at least, she knew where she wasn’t.

Gone were the days when she would wake up in a hysterical daze, desperately trying to blink away the remnants of slumber as she gaped at her surroundings in confusion. Where am I? Where am I now? Where was I yesterday? For a moment or so, questions and panic consumed her. Until, of course, she would remember that it was just a new bed she was lying in. Another new bed. In another new room. In another new place.

That initial waking panic faded with time, however. Now she recognized the unfamiliar. Recognized it and embraced it. Before she opened her eyes in the morning, she stretched her arm out and reached for the one constant. The one things that never changed. The one thing that remained by her side even when everything else seemed to disappear.

Home wasn’t a place to her. No, home was him.

Her hands found his skin, warm under the morning sunlight. He let out a small groan under her touch. His fingers laced through hers and she breathed out as her eyes fluttered open.

Her gaze met the new ceiling. The new walls. The new window. The new bed, the new pillows, the new sheets. Then her gaze met his.

Yes. She was home.

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