“I think it’s this way,” Edna said, still unsure. After all, it had been over forty years.
“No. It’s that way.” Ed remembered the railroad tracks.
Ed and Edna were both wrong. Their first house was down a street they had just passed.
They finally doubled back and Edna spotted it. They stared at the tiny bungalow for several moments in total silence, looking past the chipped paint and damaged shingles. The little dogwood sapling they planted four decades ago loomed large.
Ed shook his head, reminiscing. “It seemed like a castle to me.”
Edna smiled. “It still is.”
This 99-word story is my contribution to the September 30 Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge to "write a story about a return to home."