Write page three of your autobiography.
….and we lived in this house I’m sure was a struggle for my mother to maintain on her own, but somehow she did. The house had this cool built-in cupboard setup. My mother called it a blanket safe, though I’m not really sure why you would need somewhere secure for your blankets. All I know is that it was the coolest place to climb in for hide and go seek. I’m sure that my siblings loved when I went in there because they could pretend for ages that they couldn’t find me and I’d stop pestering them.
The house actually had a dumb-waiter in it too. I always wondered what life would have been like in the days where you needed a dumb-waiter. There were loads of nooks and crannies, places that made it the coolest place to be. I could always find somewhere to curl up and read a book. My strongest memory of that house though was the summer nights when I could sleep with my window open and listen to the neighbourhood slowly moving into night. I knew everyone on my block and all the streets around and because it was a quiet place, I could hear conversations further down the block with ease. The best sound, my very favourite one, came from the church bells. On Monday nights, my mom had no trouble putting me to bed because I wanted to hear the bell ringers practice. It was the sweetest sound, like home.