I live in Maplewood, Missouri, next to St. Louis, bordering on the bigger city’s southwestern boundary. I am renting the “mother-in-law” cottage on my landlord’s property. Both houses are yellow. Mine is maybe 750 square feet, with a somewhat finished basement.
Built in 1926, it is a kit house from a mail-order catalog. Built in shelves in the living room and hall, the original kitchen sink, new paint inside and out, and new blue carpet. I am the first to move in after various improvements have been implemented. The inside walls are white. The front door is maroon. I have a porch, a front yard, and a really cool landlord.
I love this little house. I feel very light when I’m here. The very thought of it makes me smile. Although I have no furnishings, I walk through its emptiness and am content. I am alone and am not afraid. I can continue to heal and grow and process all that has happened.
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