The day two prompt of the Writing 101 was actually very interesting. Too bad I was too preoccupied to post on the same day. Thus let me write it now.
The prompt asked me to write about a room If I could go there without any limitation.
I’m a helplessly melancholic person. Thus I choose my old family living room back in Surabaya on a rainy day way back then. I was still in my junior high school years. It was sunday as all of our family members were there.
We used to live in a rented 5 meters x 4 meters consisted of 3 rooms space. It was not spacious for sure but adequate enough for us to call home. The first 3 meters x 2 meters room was my parents bedroom, a room next to it was our dining table and cupboard where we stored all of my sister’s and my clothes. It was a small 2 meters x 2 meters room. The largest one was our living room. A 5 meters x 2 meters room. Big enough for my parents to arrange a living room to have our family guests nex to a bed for their children. Me and my sister.
It was a two level bed. I took the upper bed and my sister took the lower bed. without any curtain or whatsoever. Not the best arrangements for us and so long for privacy. We stayed that way until my senior high school years. However, my sister and I never complained even though we longed for room with door and lock. Haha.
The living room had one door that allowed us to get out directly to a narrow street in the area. Beside the door we had three windows with the height of 3/4 of the door. So we could see people passed by in front of our place and of course they could see us watching them. To think about it, I think that was why our life back then was so simple. Everyone seemed so close to each others.
Other than the bed for my sister and me, table and chairs for our guests, in the living room we also had an old sewing machine. It was a Singer. My mother used to be a very good tailor. She made her own dresses. I still keep two shirts that she made for me back in my junior high using that machine.
Can you imagine how cramped the room was?
Back to my story about a room that presumably I could go there easily. The living room on that particular Sunday, there was a very heavy rain and water already everywhere. My father and I sat by the window, exhausted after trying to drain water flooding our house. My sister was reading a comic book while my mother was sewing with a plit attention between what she was doing and the light flood.
It was not a golden-beautiful-lovely moment, but remembering that memory warms my heart. Though we don’t have a picture perfect life back then, I have no complaints about it.
In fact, my whole life was formed from that small cramped yet very warm room. Writing this post made me recalling all those small wonderful moments. Sweet memories that I treasure.
What will be your pick? What room is it?
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