I’d like to have an attic room. The ceiling shaped oddly, a small window to look out at the block, the smallness of the room. I want it.
My mom tells me when we lived in New York, our attic was leased to a college student. She tells me I went upstairs to play a lot. But I don’t remember! I really wish I did. I wonder if it was actually the way I imagine it now.
I wouldn’t like if it leaks on rainy days, though.