Brothers
A man stood outside of a large red house, quietly staring from a distance. Ignoring the breeze that brushed against his long dark blonde hair and brown leather jacket he stared that its number: 999.
The numbers were there near the garage, greeting the neighborhood. This was the right house. He had memorized the address a thousand times. 999 Milton Avenue.
The man always thought about approaching it. Practiced it hundreds of times in his head. It's so simple. Walk up to the front door, knock, and wait for an answer. So simple, right? But he couldn't. He didn't have the strength to step onto his new property. This time, he knew it was going to be different. This time he was going to the front of the house to see someone he hasn't seen in a long time.