Hey, new PPP promtp, as follows.

[ Write a story with this phrase:
Standing at the edge of the canal I was where I belonged... ]

...I could see that old building of mine, just like it had always been, a little dark but still wonderful. The square windows were just the same, they had always made me thought that there was somebody inside, expecting my arrival. This time, I knew aunt Sarah was in there, awaiting for the marvelous stories I had to tell her about the faraway land of Germany, of the secret island of Ireland. This time, I knew, aunt Sarah was going to tell me about all the good things that had happened during my trip, and all the not-so-good things that had happened, the ones I hadn't heard of in her letters.
But, one thing was sure, I was back home, the only place in the world I could call so, and was about to re-start my life there, as soon as I crossed that dear old threshold.