Short Fiction: HOME

︎︎︎ Jason, 5 years old.

Every Wednesday, my mom would take me out to this amazing place.


The seesaw, the slide, and the swing…

I like all of them! This place is definitely a paradise.
But my favourite thing in the playground is the sand. I can play in it for the whole day.

Mom helps me prepare all of the tools. The bucket, the shovel… I have all of the tools you could think of.

Today, I am building a castle. This is where I want to live in the future. There will be a parking garage for all of my cars. There will be a garden for my dog, Adam, and his friends to play. This is my castle, the place I will live in.


“My house… o-o-o”

“What happened?”

“My castle… it fell down.“

“It’s okay, honey! Mommy is here. Let’s build a new one.”

It’s okay not to have a castle, but it’s not okay if mom is not around.

︎︎︎ Crystal, 16 years old

I hate the rain.

My shoes get wet. My jeans, my shirt, and my hair will be wet and cold as well. The rain just ruins everything.

My friends and I always cancel our outdoor activities when it rains. Honestly, that is a better option rather than having a date while raining.

However, there are times when we forget to check the weather before we go out. Just like today… The weather was good in the morning.

THEN… It started raining in the afternoon.

Since we were out on a picnic, we had no choice but to go home. What’s even worse is that I forgot to bring my umbrella.

I seriously wanted to know why that it rained on the day I took out my umbrella from my backpack.


I guess I have to run home after I get off the bus.

“Dad! Why are you here?”

“You took out your umbrella this morning, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… Right”

“Were you waiting here for a long time?”

“No. I have just arrived.”

Umm… Rain isn’t that bad, when dad is waiting me at the bus stop.

︎︎︎ Marshall, 27 years old

I am tired. Very tired. Why? Because I am busy. What makes me so busy? Everything.I usually sleep in my office. I usually eat all my meals in my office.

See! Here is my to-do list. I feel like I can never finish it. And the reality is that… there will be a new list waiting for me after I complete this current list. But when I finish one of those lists, I get a chance to go home and sleep.

“He’s getting thinner… Does he still eat?”

“His dark circles look worse than last week… Does he even sleep?”

“Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?”

“That’s the question we wanted to ask you, why are you sleeping here in the living room?”

“Oh, I was too tired to go up to my room.”

“Are you getting up? Breakfast is ready.”

“5 more minutes…”

“You can go back to sleep after you eat…”

(10 mins later)

“Mom, Dad, why are you still staring at me?”

“We feel like we haven’t seen you forever”

“We could only see you when you are sleeping”

“Alright, that’s awkward, I’m up for breakfast”

To avoid this situation, I guess I have to go home frequently.

︎︎︎ Audrey, 45 years old
There are a lot of photos in my parents’ house.

There are some hanging on the living room’s wall.

Some are beside the window, on top of the TV on my desk and everywhere in our house.

My parents like to take photos of me and my siblings. It’s their way of documenting our lives.

They probably have thousands of photos of us and they’ve kept it safe in their drawer.

This album contains the photo that they took during my piano competition when I was 8.
And my brother’s high school prom…
And my sister’s first birthday…

This album contains a photo of the day I graduated from university.
And my brother’s wedding…
And my sister’s first dance recital…
Looking at these photos, I feel like I can go back to those old times. Those amazing times.

Memories are cherished through these photos.

My siblings and I are looking for an old photo including all five members of the family.
We wanted to print it out as a gift for our parents.

But our problem now, is that we could not find one.

We can hardly find a photo of my parents because they were always holding the camera ready to capture the significant moments in our lives.

I remember…
I kind of remember…
I think I remember…

the time that their hair haven’t turned white yet…
the time that their faces were still free of wrinkles…
the time that they still had the strength and agility to walk fast…
the time…
they were young and strong

In my faded memories, I cannot precisely describe their looks.

Were they happy?
Were they proud?
Were they…

If only I could turn back time, I would take pictures of my parents.
Because they, too, were part of those momentous occasions in our lives.