There's a house at the intersection. It's big and old but it's where all the parties used to be. Everyone went there and you're not too sure why but it didn't matter, you know you'd go too. It's full of warmth and histories, food and games, photo albums and video tapes. We would all tackle the couch and throw cushions at each other. We would crowd by the staircase because where else would we sit? It's where generations grow up. People stayed and went, leaving the house bare. There used to be beds in every room and laughter in the air. Now everything's collecting dust and silence looms over the house on a daily basis. The children have grown. The drinks have run dry. The party's over. But all the furniture stands still in mute, still watching and bearing witness to everyday life around it. They're the only ones that never change. That mirror with the carved wooden frame, that heavy typewriter which I used to write stories with, those chairs that used to support everyone's weights in turn, and those paintings we will never forget. This is the place some people fell in love, some started their lives and some others turned from children to adults. The place where everything and nothing happens all at once.
vintage shirt via Etsy // H&M shorts
There is a girl who used to live in that house. No, she wasn't born there, I don't think. But she grew up there, gone through puberty there, met the love of her life there then got married and left. She came back from time to time, of course. You can't live your whole life somewhere and not go back, unless you hate it or it doesn't belong to you anymore. She brought her children and introduced them to the house. Where all the magic happened. And they could see it. At least one of them enjoyed it. It was as if she turned the clock around and took them back in time to show them what her childhood looked like. It wasn't exactly the same, of course. Things change. So did the house. Throughout the years it went through more changes, some hardly noticeable and some hard to ignore. Then the girl died. Funny, it felt like she never left. Maybe she never grew up after all. Maybe she came back in the form of the clone she didn't expect to have. The one who never grows up.