It's been 20 years since he left home to join the military, tracing his house now became difficult. The streets were covered with bushes, and the buildings were old covered with fungi and mushrooms. He made a path as he walked through the thick grasses to trace his house. The Iroko tree that stood unshaken was once his favorite spot, which helped him trace his way home.
Slowly the young man worked his way through the brush and the young trees that had grown up through the cracked foundation of the dilapidated house. Cobwebs filled openings where windows had once been. Years of dirt and debris littered the floor. Carefully he stepped on the woods testing each before putting his full weight upon it, here and there he skipped steps that threatened to give way beneath him. On the right end of the wall was a broken mirror that remained unspoiled by the dust from the rotten planks. He stared at himself in the mirror and realized how he had changed over time. He was 18 years old when he last looked at himself in the mirror, he had grown no beard at then. *"How time flies" * he said.
He was going to start life over again, having lost everyone he had known and the only house which had been his inheritance. He took the mirror with him and set out to go start a new life in the city. Though he had lost everything, the mirror hanging on the wall will always remind him he once had a home.
