we had rules you know, brother and me. you don’t wear shoes, you yell car when we’re playing in the road and you spot one. you make fires and keep them going even when it rains.
we had a playhouse in the backyard and sweet gum trees peppered the property. did you know we collected gum balls and kept them on the roof of the playhouse’s first floor? we were preparing for a war, not because we wanted battle but because we liked the idea of defending
i wish i could show you things that don’t exist anymore like the sandbox on the first level never played in or the second floor roof which wobbled but seemed sturdy enough or the swing set made from old lumber, two stories high,
or how we had fashioned a pulley system to bring gum balls to the third floor and i remember the entrance to that floor had a trap door hanging above raised or lowered by rope and in chalk we wrote our names and if you could have come over to adventure you could have written your name too.