Day Eleven: Write about where you lived when you were twelve and (twist) pay attention to sentence length.

When I was twelve I lived in an apartment on Eastern street in Deer Park, NY (Long Island). I lived with my mom. I always lived with my mom until I moved out after college (way after, lol). Our apartment was a one bedroom. In fact it was technically only two rooms: bedroom and kitchen/dining/living room. We lived there for ten years (from 5 years old to 15). I always had the bedroom. She slept in the living room on a portable bed (that remained in one place for ten years).
It was small, yes. My friends all lived in houses with two parents and sometimes siblings. So what? I never noticed what I didn’t have until I had it. Maybe that’s because I spent a lot of time by my aunt & uncle, who had a house big enough for my grandparents to live comfortably downstairs. Anyway, my mom did her best to make it cozy and ours. To make it “home”. And that’s what it was: Home. I actually still dream that I’m living there sometimes; it’s weird but logical since to this day I have never lived in any one place longer than when I was there. And of course I have ten years of memories from that apartment. Kudos to you, Mom!



2 thoughts on “1988.

  1. It is weird sometimes when you wake up and for a moment you are back in an old place. It takes a second for your brain to say “Umm…hello…your not in NY anymore.”
    Nice job. I’m a follower now. I follow people living in cool places for Inspiration in my writing. Is it possible for some more amazing photographs of what it’s like there? I know people would love it along with any writing you could come up with about your life there and how it differs.
    Much Envy

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