Imaginings of a Creative Writer

The house I share with my family is quite ordinary. It has a living room and dinning room that are separated only by a chair and your imagination. Our kitchen is just big enough to be useable and we only have two real bedrooms, so I have to sleep in the basement with the octopus heater and bugs. However, last night my parents were sitting in our little three season porch talking about their day with me coming in to interrupt with a new break-through in the story I was currently working on.

It just so happens that one of the times I came in to interrupt I got dragged into their conversation. While half listening to my dad and mom telling me some thing I let my eyes wander over the shadows the one small reading lamp danced around the room. I noticed first, that for some reason the previous owners had set up a series of shelves right across the window. As my parents continued to talk I began to wonder why some one would do such a thing. It was then that I saw the door.

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