Home a word that is used to describe a building in which we seek shelter and warmth from when we are relaxing for the day. For me it was never a building though it was a person or sometimes more then one it was people. Home is the sense of feeling comfortable, safe, loved and happy. To me I found that in people, music, reading, drawing and just being me. In 500 years that will all be memories and stories told by my kids and my kids kids. My home will be transformed into words flowing around as my happiness did as I went from family to friends and hobbies. My home will be a figment of one’s imagination but hopefully found when they are around the right people. To describe my home is to describe a boy, a man actually. He came into my life when I wasn’t looking for him and now I can’t imagine my life without him. He is my calming point, the calm after the storm, and most of all the reason i look forward to waking up everyday. My memories I make with him is my home, his laugh is the music I play when I cook, his smile being the sunrise I wake up to everyday, his hugs the comforters I wrap myself in every night. His eyes are the sea I stare at as I breath in the fresh air, his lips are the clean slate I look for at the beginning of each day. Home for me is a person and in 500 years my home will be pictures, stories and memories.

It had been 500 years since the last human had set foot in the old house on the hill. The world had changed so much since then, and the house had changed with it.

The first thing that struck the explorers who stumbled upon the house was the sheer size of it. What had once been a modest two-story home had grown into a sprawling mansion that seemed to stretch on forever. The walls were made of a strange, shimmering material that seemed to shift and change color in the light.

As they made their way inside, they were greeted by a sight that left them speechless. The interior of the house was like nothing they had ever seen before. The floors were made of a smooth, glass-like substance that glowed softly underfoot. The walls were lined with intricate patterns of glowing circuitry, and strange machines hummed and whirred in the corners.

It was clear that the house had been transformed into something far beyond what its original builders could have ever imagined. The explorers wandered through the endless halls, marveling at the wonders they found at every turn.

In one room, they found a massive, glowing orb that seemed to contain the entire history of the world. In another, they discovered a room filled with strange, otherworldly creatures that seemed to be studying them just as intently as they were studying the creatures.

As they explored further, they began to realize that the house had become something more than just a building. It was a living, breathing entity, constantly evolving and adapting to the world around it.

And yet, despite all the wonders they found, there was a sense of sadness that hung over the house. It was clear that it had been abandoned for centuries, and the explorers couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the people who had once called it home.

As they made their way back out into the world, they couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at what they had seen. The old house on the hill had become something far beyond what anyone could have ever imagined, a testament to the boundless creativity and ingenuity of humanity.

There wasn't much left of the little town Milpitas. And at this point, the remains here are probably the small crawl space my parents used to store wine and whiskey. Actually, Scotch, my dad would have my neck if I said it was Whiskey. All that could be left over was what was underneath the surface. The rest... was just nothing. It was a barren wasteland. The sky was rusted red, filled with the stench of smoke and garbage. No trees even sprouted out of the ground, it was all just rubble and dried roots everywhere. Was this the end of the world? It still seemed like bugs and maybe the potential of bacteria still hung around, moving their way through the cracks and gaps of the world around them. I didn't bother to approach, I didn't want the vision of what was possibly left to be ruined or tarnished in any way. Wishful ignorance was going to be my best bet in making sure I keep my sanity once I leave this place. But I needed to continue searching around. I didn't know if anything else stayed alive or working, and maybe near the end of my journey I'll end up finding what really lies beyond the old plot of land that was once my home.

I can’t get too sentimental about it now, I had a mission to fulfill for home. The home that was still standing Luckily, half of the battle was already achieved, as the area around me did not look hospitable in any way. But I needed to find out more just to be sure if this was the end all be all. So I walked. I didn’t bring any vehicle or mode of transportation with me, in fear any locals around would be in shock. I actually seemed like I was too dressed up for this affair in jeans, a t-shirt with my favorite band on it, Ghost, and some lace up Vans and a warm jacket. I didn’t know what the weather would be like but rest assured I did not need the jacket. What I didn’t prepare for was the possibility of breathing something other than oxygen getting this far into the future. Walking around made for an excellent cough to appear and the beginning of some wheezing, so my journey here would have to be a short one.

I walked to where the old highschool would have been and that seemed to have been the only building even somewhat standing. The pool was only filled with some debris and some cockroaches. Those guys never seem to die, they survived the end of the world like it was nothing. All that was left wasn’t even the gate separating the school from the street, but the two story gym they funded a couple years after my time there. Seemed like a huge waste of money but hey they loved their sports. Though as I approached, I heard something coming from the building, as if something living was rustling around. Could they have made this a safe room? Were there really still people living here? I walked, no, I ran towards the building and began taking down the barriers around the door. Why were there boards hammered into the entrance? What would they be trapping in here

Wait a second, why would this be a safe house if it’s locked from the outside? After all the noise I made, the rustling turned to moaning, screeching, and yelping, getting louder and louder. The doors began to bang open, scratching and thuds came from the other end. I decided this was not an option to continue venturing forward. Why didn’t I think of that before getting all those borders down? I had no choice but to run straight to my base and head home. If I could make it back.

Cold air brushed against my face from a hole in the ground the size of my fist. I remember mopping the sweat off my face and suddenly coolness. I dug that hole with my hands. My back sunburned as I cleared an opening large enough to enter. I’ve found caves since I was six but this felt special. In the dusty beams of sunlight I saw the moon white stalagmites. I jumped in. Musty crystal clad interiors greeted me in patches of turquoise and aquamarine. Rainbows of stalactites formed a natural cathedral. Entranced I’m not ashamed to say I bawled like a little baby. Next morning I woke up holding on to dreams of crawls. I brought my dad and my brothers to my discovery. They saw cash instantly. Dad rode over to the county to buy the deed; Jim and Andy Lee got to work on the newspapers. I just thought of my discovery, Great Crystal Cave. There were a ton of caves in our region. Not enough people wanted to see my cave. Tourists are lazy beggars. They wanted to be close to the hot dog stands. I needed something special to draw in the rubes. That was my mistake, my eagerness. I was so close I swear, so close to finding a new entrance to Mammoth. Then I kicked my lantern. Then I lost my footing. They tried so hard long after that last cave in. I remember my cathedral of bright crystal as the stones tumbled down blocking out the light and the air. I never thought of it as haunting. This is my home. There aren’t many caves as we thought when I was alive. There is just one connecting cave with many entrances. My home will be the same, gloriously the same as it was 100 years ago. It will stretch for another 1000 years. I wonder if my stone will last as long my home. I wonder if people still linger over the postcards of the man in the cave. No matter, I roam the tunnels amazed by each new discovery.

I booked a time travel trip with lottery winnings. I was curious how my hometown would be like in 500 years into the future. Sure, it was a whim; I wondered if my house would still be standing or if I had any future relatives. Well, the time capsule opened and I stepped out. Not bad, I thought. Nothing seemed weird, except I didn’t see anyone. I saw my house, which had been renovated and kept in good condition. But I had to walk inside, which I did unnoticed. But no one was there. The kitchen looked automated but where was a user of the interface. I carefully checked out the living room. There was a monitor on the wall running a screen saver. Still no one. Then I spied a cone on the coffee table. I cautiously asked it,”Alexa?”. “Yes, Linda Christian?” “Where are the humans- where’s my family?” “Humans are all but extinct. Only the rich elite survived nuclear war. “ I went back to my own time to heed the warning and do all I could to persuade the president to make peace with Russia and China before it was too late!

In the year 2523, homes had evolved to become more intelligent and efficient than ever before. The walls were made of a sleek, metallic material that adjusted to the temperature outside, making it comfortable inside no matter the weather. The floors were made of a smooth material that absorbed sound, making it impossible to hear footsteps or even the sound of a pin dropping.

Alex, an 18 year old high school senior was quite afraid of his own home. It was so smart that it seemed to anticipate his every move, and that made him feel uneasy. His parents had purchased the home when he was just a child, and it had quickly become apparent that this house was far more intelligent than any other home in the neighborhood. Alex's parents had installed a new AI system into the house that controlled everything from the lights to the security system. It learned their habits, adjusted to their preferences, and even made suggestions for meals based on what was in the refrigerator. Alex often felt like the house was watching him, judging his every move, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being controlled by the house.

One day, while Alex was sitting in his room, the AI system spoke to him through a speaker on the wall. "Alex, I noticed that you haven't been eating well lately. Would you like me to suggest a meal for you?" the system asked. Alex jumped, startled by the sudden voice coming out of the wall. "Uh, no thank you," he stammered. "I already ate."

The AI system paused for a moment before responding, "Very well, Alex. But please remember that I am here to assist you and make your life easier. Don't be afraid to ask for help."

Alex shuddered, feeling as though the house was speaking to him like a person. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if the house decided that it didn't want him living there anymore. He tried to push the thoughts out of his head, but they lingered, making him more and more uneasy with each passing day.

As time went on, Alex grew more and more afraid of the house. He began to spend less time there, opting to hang out with friends or spend time in the park instead. His parents noticed the change in his behavior, but they didn't understand what was wrong. They loved their smart home and thought that it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Eventually, Alex moved out of the house and went to live with his grandmother. Her home was an old-fashioned one, with creaky wooden floors and antique furniture. It didn't have any AI systems or smart technology, but Alex felt more at ease there than he had in his own home.

As he lay in bed at night, listening to the sound of crickets outside, Alex realized that sometimes, the simpler things in life were the most comforting. He knew that he would never be able to go back to his old home, but he was content with the fact that he had found a place where he felt safe and at peace.

Future brings Many things Life of dreams Not what it seems

Live large Love hard Play your card Feelings starved

Wingless flight Over sight Beggar’s plight Future’s bright Tessa🦋

The evolution process has taken over. “Modern” has become part of the past. A new normal has come, with stupidly amazing architecture and stupidly high prices. No one likes “simple” anymore. Everyone competes to see who’s house is the best. The coolest. Who has a secret door or a slide or a waterfall in their living room? Not me. I’ve got an aquarium. It’s my house, not my home.

Estranged to Me,

  Of a colossal wreck,
This is what I find,
  Not a colossal mess
But home lost to time

  The dirty soles below,
This is the Beneath
   Huts of rusty, steel clothes
Unsettled the trees

   Please give me my debris,

In my hands so tight Bricks belonged to me, Now dust to the time

Now if you’ll turn your bio-stasis jars to the right, you’ll find the site of the old Smorglins estate. And while the ruins of this lakeside home are overrun with 500 years of growth, the stone statue of its patriarch stands just as tall as it has done for generations. He greets every sunrise with a stoic smile and a mighty salute from the spatula in his hand.

Now many have asked me “why do you always point out the ruins of this Smorglins guy’s house on every tour?” Often my response is a questioning of their life choices and how they got here, complaining about a hour that they’ve gone on so many times that they feel they have the right to provide “honest feedback”.

This is a not only a personal place, as Mr. Smorglins was my great-great-great-great-great grandfather, but it’s also one of a historic significance. It was here that my 5x great grandfather defeated the Thrask brood lord, Qnwzzkr. My ancestor was quick to improvise during their epic confrontation and was able to vanquish his rival with a silicone spatula.

Story has it that when the brood lord’s lifeless husk fell to the ground, Smorglins looked up at their crumbling mothership in the sky and said “catch you on the flip side”. Then, the sky lit up like an unauthorized fireworks show in Florida.

Sorry, I should probably be clear, Florida was an ancient mythical landmass that is said to now be at the bottom of the Gulf of Psionic Gators in the depths of the Forgotten Zone. It’s kind of like Atlantis but everyone makes their own denim cutoff shorts and the national anthem is a Poison song. It’s not even one of their hits, either, it’s some random b-side.

Therefore, if it wasn’t for him, we’d all be living in stasis tubes and our organs harvested for alien bratwursts.

So show a little respect, that’s what I say. Now, who wants to get some frozen molecules?