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A perfect family, a mom, a dad, two kids and a dog. All sitting around the fireplace on a cold winter’s day. The mom and dad reading on the sofa while the kids stare into the fire, mesmerized by the glow and the heat of the flames. The dad transfixed in the paper, he does not trifle himself with the results about his teams performance, nor is he concerned about how his stocks fared in the marketplace. Instead he passes the time by reading the comic section, chuckling at the antics of the ink and paper characters trapped in the page. An old, worn joke to the man feels fresh and witty when said by a fat orange cat. Sitting beside him is his wife; they have been side by side for the past 5 years in marriage, forever in love, indebted to each other’s ways for life. She is engrossed in a mystery novel, the same one she took to college with her, now nine years later she is still reading the same novel for the countless time. Again she will read the novel, even if the ending never changes, for she likes the characters and the way the author writes. Just as she could never leave her husband, she could never part with this book, no matter how much she wears down the text on the page. Lying on the carpet in front of the sofa where the married couple is relaxing are their two kids. Both kids, transfixed on the scene in front of them, are no bother to their parents. For a television or a videogame system is nowhere to be seen in this room. The two youngsters are caught in a trance by the fire in the stone fireplace. Captivated by the way the flames talk to each other in the snaps and cracks, the kids yearn to learn the secret language of fire. How they stare into the brightness that is the flames, watching the fire as it throws light and heat into the room, begging to be released from its stony cell. The kids lie there, wondering at the fire, feeling the security the fire gives them, the feeling of warmth all over, no matter how hard the wind blows outside. And right next to them is the family dog. Normally a dog outside without a leash, free to run around the woods, to exercise the proper way without the interference of a leash or too slow of a master, but for this night he is happy to be inside, out of the fierce wind and falling snow. Free to lie in front of the fire, basking in the warmth and the glow of the fire. Enjoying the petting and playfulness of the two kids, the dog feels at home on the carpet of the front room. So while the wind howls angrily around the house, as the snow beats upon the window panes and as the temperature drops even further below the point of freezing the family can sit back and enjoy the warmth of the fire and each other’s company, not aware of the world outside their windows, and how I watch their perfect family and yearn to join them, how I yearn for a family of my own, for a warm home to call my own.

But yet I stand on the outside still looking in.