me in B major – 60 Jubilee East, the attic‏

by richibi

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I’m the one on the right

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been a door originally, from which 
they would’ve swept out hay, I’d
think, where chickens might’ve 
roosted, but my dad had built a 
couple of bedrooms for us there, 
my sister and I, one at either end 
of what would’ve been that attic
 
much of this is conjecture, I don’t 
remember living in the chicken
coop, though I remember living
in the garage, there’d been an
outhouse behind it, and men
would come over to clean it out
every so often
 
there was also a milkman, who led
horse and milk wagon, and for 
whom we’d clean out and return 
the bottles
 
also in summer, a man with a pony
for kids took pictures, I still have
ours imprinted on a cup
 
 
between our bedrooms, my dad had
built a closet, where we could both 
hang all our clothes, and beside it,
on either side, a row of shelves we
could individually use adjoining our 
separate bedrooms, hers was pink, 
mine was blue, baby blue, this was 
probably already more than most 
other kids had, though I would’ve 
been too young to be aware of it  
 
behind the closet, there was a door 
into a confined area under the roof,
with beams and an itchy brush that
served as insulation, we were 
curious but ever too afraid to go in 
there, where confinement lurked, 
nor had I wanted to get into the dryer 
down in the basement for the same 
reason, I might, I told myself, lock 
myself in
 
a short staircase towards the back of 
the house led onto a landing, where
a window looked out onto our back 
yard, if I remember well, and beyond 
that to the brush that preceded the 
forest, and a rocky elevation
 
a longer staircase in the other direction
took us downstairs, into the main living 
areas
 
 
my sister and I were only a year apart,
I was older, protective, she was younger,
trusting, this has never changed
 
 
Richard
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