The house smelled like faint cigarette smoke, something sweet and just like home. The dim lighting and worn out furniture perfect for sitting in the living room and doing nothing comfortably. It's the weekend and you're staying at your granny's for the next few days, both of you sitting and watching John Wayne on her old TV. Her dog laying on the floor fast asleep, you not far behind. It was a long day of doing nothing, and you find yourself fading in and out of consciousness.

Soon though, as you close you eyes for what feels like a few seconds, you stir back awake as you feel the familiar feel of a heavy and slightly scratchy quilt getting laid out over you. Using the jacket that was on the couch as a pillow. It's all nice, getting away from school and home to come here and spend some quality time with you're grandma. This place always feels like home.