“Hey Laura, could you do us a favor?”
I stopped typing in emails to Mrs. Weir’s address book and
eagerly turned around. So far, every task I’d been given was like an adult
version of arts and crafts and I was sure this one would be just as fun.
“Could you deliver these for us today?” Mrs. Metheny handed
me a stack of three painted cabinet doors.
Me? Drive? Like, find this house on my own?
She told me the address… was it 4810 or 4180? I couldn’t
remember but just nodded along as if I were excellent with navigating through
the suburbs of Cleveland (which I very much am not) and knew exactly where this
modern white house lived (which I very much did not).
But I drove with confidence! Hell yeah I knew this road. I’d
lived here for 18 years. I was a pro.
Um no. I drove up to what I thought the address was. 4180?
Instead of seeing a modern white house perched on a hill, I approached a
beat-up mailbox that stood crookedly in front of a dirt driveway that appeared
to lead into nowhere.
Okay. 4810? I did a U-turn and weaved down the tree-lined
road until, yes, there it was, a modern white house perched on a hill with the
address of 4810 printed on a straight mailbox.
The End.
Oh, and here's a desk I'm in the process of antiquing. It's looking pretty nifty.
~Laura
Laura, I've beenreading your posts! I really want to learn to do what you are doing! The images you've been posting have been really interesting -- how did the white round table ultimately turn out? Keep the posts coming -- they are like a serialized story -- so colorful!
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