My House Was the Money Pit

My House Was the Money Pit

Two Pillars Make a House

The house I grew up in was a giant, awe-inspiring white house with 2 pillars in the front that cast a long shadow onto the street below. It had a long row of blue steps tilting in various directions and not safe enough to walk on. In the U.S. these are the kind of stairs people like to fall and “break their necks” on so they can sue you. A tree with purple leaves sat in the side yard with perfect climbing branches. I used to go up there and read when I wanted some privacy to be with my teenage thoughts, or to drop dirt on the heads of passersby.

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I Grew Up in a Small Town

i grew up in a small town

Growing Up in a Small Town

I like to see if anything has changed, if I have changed. I have this daydream about going back there and seeing everyone I went to high school with. These were people who made me feel uncomfortable on a daily basis, always calling me “the quiet girl.” I walk into our 10 year reunion and everyone gasps; they are shocked at how good looking, smart, and worldly I’ve become. As we stand around the punch bowl and stale cookies I talk like I’m Indiana Jane, and amaze the crowd that has now formed, with stories of my foreign adventures. While growing up in a small town, it’s the big fantasy.

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