When I was eleven, my family moved from San Francisco to 633 N.
Mariposa Avenue in Los Angeles. I remember the
Wentworth kids across the street and two doors down--a realer version of the Brady Bunch. I remember listening to the radio for hours, imagining what it might be like to fall in love with a handsome boy. I remember riding minibikes in the
abandoned dirt lot, and the two boys who called me
Kike. I remember finding newborn kittens in the garage, and looking out my bedroom window at the palm trees, wishing a wild parrot would land and be mine.
When I was eleven, my family moved from San Francisco to 633 N. Mariposa Avenue in Los Angeles. I remember the Wentworth kids across the street and two doors down--a realer version of the Brady Bunch. I remember listening to the radio for hours, imagining what it might be like to fall in love with a handsome boy. I remember riding minibikes in the abandoned dirt lot, and the two boys who called me Kike. I remember finding newborn kittens in the garage, and looking out my bedroom window at the palm trees, wishing a wild parrot would land and be mine.
2 comments:
what beautiful writing. how you wrote such rich memories in a short space is amazing!
wendyxo
i watched double imdemnity the other day and it was filmed in your old los feliz neighborhood rw
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