Everything has changed, but nothing has

As I though I would, I woke up this morning not quite recognising where I was, but then I remembered. I was here, again, in the old family home; the house I was born in, and where I grew up. Truth be told, it feels wierd to be back here: everything has changed, and nothing has. The kitchen has a new suite, yet the old table I ate so many breakfasts and dinners at growing up is still there. My parents have redecorated various rooms, but the piano I taught myself to play the themes from Mash and James Bond on still stands in its place in the dining room. This, then, is he house I remember, homely and warm; a constant throughout all my adventures down in the metropolis. And, as much as I love my life in London, and although my visit will be fairly brief, it feels great to be back here.

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