Father of the family had already travelled a million miles and he thought about the house he was going to build:
The house is where I would find the moorings at the end of a hard day. At nights, it takes the form of a ship anchored alongside the wharf and leans on to the expanding shine of ocean. The balmy breeze across the yard would unfurl the mast's sails to go for a few more knots.
I want the entrance of the house to have cathedral ceiling, glass windows abound and a den in front to get a peek into the storms and lightning passing by. The dwellers of my Ark would hold onto each other until the morning breaks and then I can let them fly away in the bluest sky. I think I need a longer vision glass to see far enough.
Shrugging away the captain's apprehensions, daughter was thinking:
My house begins from the attic where I have a bird's eye view of the landscape beyond the fence, where I can listen to the rain rattling on the roof and then feel the moist nights ticking away with water dripping from the drain and then let the sunshine flutter its mosaic over the slanted windows. I want to walk down the stairs to the living room where the family is assembled. This house of my dream is grand old and I can sense a dejavu of being transported to a timeless time.
Son loathed his sister's morbid optimism and thought to himself:
The idea of basement came from human fear of death and an expectation for bad things to happen. A dingy crawl space would have been preferable. I always felt the house is like a mausoleum built upon a basement like this. I know the trusses and the walls are going to crumble some day and there would be an onslaught of dust and everyone in the house would turn ghostly. The laughters, sobs and voices trapped in the air columns would die a natural death and I want to go far away. I want to smudge every trace of my foot prints too.
Mother thought of her dream of constancy every time she packed their belongings from rented apartments and hit the road:
This house is a refuge and a boundary drawn for the melancholic world. A refuge for a displaced and broken human spirit to restore its body, mind and soul. The house should have a dining area adjacent to the living room to welcome and nourish those who come home battered and bruised and then the soft light in the bedrooms would heal them.
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