No matter how long it will take, a home is bound to get some good news one day, a sudden burst of sunshine in the window no one expected to arrive but arrived anyway, one day, not through the door, but through that which most people would like to see as a space of hope, smaller than the entrance, but an opening, no less.
After five years, it has arrived in mine.
This sense of family is too big and scary, it overpowers me. You can call it love, but love does not encompass how a home is structured, or is being structured, and will be structured. What does the word complete mean, anyway?
I shall call it good news, then. An unexpected whoosh of yellow on that immobile screen carrying a disarray of movements and sounds many would call darkness.