My childhood memories are as follows; Mountain Ash, sunny living room, warm hardwood floors, kitchen table, blue birds, house-wren, cardinals, birdfeeder, backyard, grass, playground, coloured pencils, cell phone, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Halloween Candy, toy horses, Barbie, Bear-Bear, Mittens, Najha, airplane noise, velvet skirt and shirt, carpet, house plants, Valentine's chocolate from Dad, Valentine's Bug Love book, bunk beds, costume mouse tail, candle wax, beanie babies, and a roll top desk. I also remember there was always a strong cigarette smell in the garage. I didn't know what it was, though. It smelled smoky and dull, like someone threw a mysterious spice in a campfire that made it's way to my house. I remember opening the garage door and taking in a deep breath before school and after. It reminded me of Mom and home and I loved it. Fifteen years later, my boyfriend's puffy pink lips, don't smoke anymore. My Mom's blackened teeth, a telling sign he should stop. My Nephew's small torso, the reason to. The garage still smells like smoke and I can't help but wonder if my Nephew pokes his head into the garage. Our lives are already so different, he with one parent, me with both. Yet we were raised in the same house. In the livingroom, I see him play video games instead of colour and still the memory of my Mom's loving voice comes to mind. "Hey, what are you up to?"
A/N: Yeah, I consider this a freewrite. I think it could turn out to be a good memoir or something someday.
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