I grew up in a house that was near the edge of the city I lived in. Unusual for a city, it had an acre of near-flat land --- although of course the house itself was rather small. I can remember in great detail the entire house and yard, both before we remodeled it and after. I can remember doors where there are none anymore, window slats that no longer exist, and a wall that used to go the whole way rather than just a small segment for the oven to sit in front of. I remember old wallpaper, hideous carpeting, monstrous curtains, and a rather ugly couch (that we actually still have). I can remember several different furniture arrangements in the living room, dining room, and bedrooms. I remember growing up in the house, playing with my sister, arguing with her, doing homework, watching TV, going to bed.

In the hallway --- and I've never seen this anywhere except that house --- there was a furnace under the floor, and there was a grating on top of it. You could stand on it, and if you didn't mind the vague discomfort of the grating in your feet, it was very nice if the day was cold.

We've driven past it a couple of times since then. The new neighbors took off the fence from the backyard and put up a new one surrounding the property, and it looks like they're grinding up the yard to do something with it, I don't know what. It's very disconcerting when something you've been so accustomed to for so long changes so drastically. Ah well.

-Eric Sleator