Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Metaphor

My mom is like a winter cabin, she is warm and cold but she always has the fire place on. The wooden floor has some cracks and holes in it but not enough to fall through. I will look out the window to the nice meadow that once was green but now filled and pilled with shiny white snow. There are nice comfy seats to sit on in the cabin, and the smell of fresh turkey fills the air. The cabin in never fully organized but, clean enough to see that it is tided every morning. The mirrors and paintings hang on the walls giving the cabin a little extra funk to fill the air. I can walk out the door and feel peaceful, feeling like nothing can harm me, and all my stress disappears like the snow melts on the long green grass.

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