FreeWriting

The free-writing excercise in class today made me remember something that I haven't thought of in years. The small closet under the stairs of my childhood home was a favorite hiding space of mine, and I would steal a flashlight and play at making monstrous shadows on the walls. One time I brought my little brother in there to show him, with the lights off and the door closed. A flood of guilt washed over me as I remembered how he was scared to tears by those shadow puppets, but I didn't stop. It was a trivial thing, but it stuck with me. Nick, if you ever read this, I'm so sorry I made you cry.