2-21-22
There are subtle differences in this new apartment. The countertops in the bathrooms here do not have the little lip around the edge like the old one. There is no linoleum tiles. Instead, there is plastic, faux wood flooring. In both closets there is a wooden bar to hang your shirts, but in this apartment there is less space between the bar and the wooden shelf where we set our shoes.
Even the water tastes different. It tastes newer, if that is anything. Like the pipes still taste of fresh metal. In the shower the head is not so low so I only have to stoop a little to get my hair wet. I no longer have to turn the shower on for noise to hide my bathroom adventures; there are vents that hum now. These walls stay warm and although there is no ceiling fan in our bedroom the windows spill light in and offer a view at something other than a parking lot.
All of the walls are a nice gray instead of a sickly, off-white, and the paint itself looks applied, not piled on. It doesn’t shine like it’s slimy. The bathtub reflects light instead of constantly birthing mold and there is no sagging patch in the ceiling, born from a leaky pipe.
A crawl space offers up new worlds in Amelia’s room. It is a fairy door now and if a mortal opens it they see a small storage unit. But if a fairy opens it we become princes and princesses and, with that power, can destroy the monarchy from within.
However, the actual bit of serendipity is the fact that, despite the clutter, this apartment feels more like home than the last place ever did. Maybe I am selling it short. Maybe I am giving it too much credit. I am here now and I’m hoping I can say the same tomorrow.
Love you sis, mom, dad, Amelia, Marie, kitty
-E.B.
Ed Boy 