Writing 101 – Day eleven – Write about your home, aged twelve.

Posted: June 16, 2014 in Writing 101

My home at aged twelve.
My home when I was twelve was pretty sweet. I had started secondary school, and fortunately our new house was only a five minute walk away from school. It’s all about Location, Location, Location. Smart move folks. Mind you, the old house wasn’t exactly a country hike away either.
Now, I don’t quite know how this panned out, but the house had a huge second bedroom, and I, as the younger of two siblings, managed to claim it. Now the third room, was literally a box, and my sister, as far as I’m aware, didn’t grumble about it. Maybe she did, but perhaps my smile was too big that it affected my hearing. After speaking to my mum just now, she confirms that my sister didn’t complain, and I was afforded the luxury of a huge room because I had a fabulous 5 foot snooker table. Hours of fun. Ooh, and a dart board. Happy days.
The kitchen had a breakfast bar, which I thought was the coolest thing ever. I always envisaged getting some stools and sitting there while brekky was served. It never quite panned out that way and ended up really becoming an obstacle in the room.
My two cousins lived practically over the road, which was great and a school friend – Kelly – lived two doors away.
The house was a town house – one of the middle two houses on a row of four separated by a ginnel from the neighbour to the right. Prior to moving to this house, I had had hours of fun in my old house in yet another ginnel, but the attraction of this ginnel wasn’t the same somehow… Funny how ginnels can have different feels to them. One ginnel couldn’t replace the love of another.
So that’s my house at twelve. I can’t remember much about it at twelve. But my parents still live there now – twenty five years on.
I still don’t like that ginnel!
And guess what – the snooker table is still in my room. Who wants a game?

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