The house that used to be...

Maya rolled down the glasses of her car, removed her expensive sunglasses and let the wind rush in and kiss her hair. She smelt childhood.
She stepped out of the car and looked around. Her age old hometown still smelt the same as it did twelve years ago. The houses were still the same, a few of them looked newly painted but they still smelt warmth. 
She turned around to look at the house she had lived her first ten years of her life. The sky blue paint had come of in most of the areas. The red and orange bricks were showing. The iron gate still didnt look rusty. The window panes gave way to the sun and every ray that peeped in looked like they were paying homage to happiness that once dwelt there.
Creepy creepers creepily creeped out of a few broken bricks.
Maya took a step forward and leaned over the house and smelt laughter on the huge platform near the gateway. Flashes of her brother and her best friend playing mud castles in the garden crossed her mind.
She felt a streak of tears flowing down her face.
She turned around to walk away to her car when suddenly she saw an old man standing by the old watermelon tree selling puffed rice to little kids. The same old man who once sold her puffed rice every evening. The same old watermelon tree where she had first met her childhood best friend, who no more lives in the red house at the crossing.
She looked at the crushed paper bags and then again at the old man. How come he still looked the same. Maybe just a few more wrinkles and that he wore glasses now. Heavy thick glasses.
And as eveyrthing started getting back to her she closed her eyes, and as a tear or two trickled down her skin, she breathed in deep, and deeper, to inhale in some nostalgia, some laughter that used to be....some life that used to be...some childhood that used to be....
And she walked back to the car.....smiling.