Today’s prompt: Write about a room you remember well.
The one room that I’ll always remember is in the second house our family lived in. We went from a bungalow to a two-storey house with a garage.
My room sat about halfway over the garage. There was a built-in desk to the left as soon as you walked in. I had a bunk bed with a futon on the bottom. There was another desk near the window. My dad hung the speakers of my mini-system on the ceiling. My mom put up a black-and-white striped valence.
It’s the room I was a teenager in, angsty, moody, and inconsistent.
My parents sold the house while I was away at university. My sister packed it up and my things were moved across the city, into a room that felt half as big. The bunk bed turned into a double. The desks became one. The window sat directly across from the neighbour’s bedroom window.
I did have my own apartment, then, just in another city on the other side of the country.
This writing prompt comes from Letters’ Lounge.
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