"BANG !" the door caused a reverberation . It was just standing there, with father standing on one side, and I on the other side. We were both in great anger. "Never set foot in this house again!" stormed father. With tears  welling up in my eyes, I rushed out of the flat and ran along the street. The street lights were shining, causing rather sad feelings. I walked aimlessly. A young father who held a child in his arms walked past me. I felt as if I saw my childhood from another space: happy and carefree. But now ... I don't know whether it is because I have grown up or because dad is getting old.  We differ in our ways of thinking. He always puts his opinions of behavior on me. Whenever I do something wrong, he never turns a blind eye to it. We are just like two people coming from two different worlds. It feels like there is an iron door between us that can never be opened. I walked aimlessly on the streets, without an exact place in mind. My heart was frozen on this hot summer night. As I walked on there were fewer and fewer people on the streets, until I had only the street lights to be with me. When I finally reached the high-rise apartment block in which I lived. I saw that all the lights were off except the father's. I thought to myself: "Is father waiting for me, or is he still angry with me?" "Am I wrong?" I whispered, maybe... With the key in hand, I was as nervous as I had ever been. At last, I decided to open the door. As soon as I opened the door tears ran down my cheeks. I suddenly realized that there was no iron door between us at all. Love - it's second to none. What made the writer think of his childhood?
The sight of the street lights. The sight of the empty street. The sight of a father with a child in his arms. The sight of light in his own house.