Moving In

The summer I turned ten my parents moved from our ramshackle old house to a new big one out in the suburbs. I was always on the loose and this Friday I had kept to my usual schedule of a girls sleepover with my best friend Leah. She lived a few houses from mine and the hours passed playing with dolls and make believe games with my mongrel dog Frank and her Siamese cat Ginny. Around noon I decided to wander home with Frank to see if there was anything to eat. I opened the front door to a stark, denuded, hollow sounding cavernous space. A four bare walled empty house. Frank and I stood there in disbelief, him slobbering, me dry mouthed.

“Nothing to do but start walking ” I said to Frank. And off we went traversing the city streets for about five miles. I knew where the new house was, I wasn’t a complete idiot, I’d always been that kid though that was never home when important things happened. Frank was dragging his feet and I was really hungry and thirsty by the time we climbed up the front steps. I knocked on the front door using the bell and the brass knocker just to be sure I was making myself known. My mother opened the door and said ” So there you are” as if I had just been out at the playground. No helicopter Mom that’s for sure. She continued ” There’s only one bedroom left, the best ones have been taken by your siblings. You’re up in the attic”. Great I thought and marched past her to see my new digs. Too late for me, I knew I was going to be hot as heck in the summer and bone chilling cold in the winter stuck up here. Ever pragmatic I went back downstairs to find something to eat.

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