Dimka ife
Turning dreams into reality, one post at a time.
Member Since: 1 year ago
The house is quiet now.
The house is quiet now. Not the quiet of peace. The quiet of after. After the children grew legs long enough to carry them past the front gate and into lives that no longer fit inside these walls. The kitchen is too clean. Nobody spills juice at 7 AM anymore. Nobody leaves shoes in the middle of the hallway like landmines designed to test my patience and my ankles. I used to pray for silence. Specifically. On my knees. With feeling. Now the silence answers back and I realize I was never pra...
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