It was a white house. It was the best house. I had a rather big room on the second floor. I loved my room but I didn’t keep it very tidy. Sometimes my mother would be so annoyed that she would put all the things that were lying around everywhere and on the floor in my bed. She would pull the cover over it and when I would come I’d find my room all tidy.

I would be happy! My mom cleaned and cleared my room.

Till I got to bed. That is when I would find all my things. I would be mad with my mom but I would also think it was pretty funny.
My sister lived in the room next to mine and my brother had the biggest room in the front of the house. He had the view!

The view that I loved so much, that would delight me every time I saw it. The beautiful houses across from the talus that I would see in winter, and the green that would block the view every summer.

There was a gate at the tope of the slope but we knew a place where we could go down, we’d climb down and run the last part of the incline to get into the part where no one came. No one dared but us, the brave ones.  



Writing 101, Day Eleven: Size Matters

Today, tell us about the home you lived in when you were twelve. For your twist, pay attention to — and vary — your sentence lengths.

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