The house I grew up in was a 2 story shotgun house on a deadend street. It might look a bit scary to some people passing by. But then again not people would have reason to come to the end of Pine Street unless they were lost. Even the mailman didn’t come down our road, our box was at the end of the street. Next to the house was the railroad tracks on a 6 foot raised embankment. Tall weeds had covered the banks, but we had trampled some down to get across. The other side of the railroad tracks was the continuation of the street and it led on into town.through a quiet little neighbor.
The house itself was built somewhere in the early 1900s. They must have liked 12 foot ceilings back then, because that is what this house had. There were transoms over the internal doorways. I bet you don’t even know what a transom is, do you? it is like a glass window. Most of them open out to let air circulate. The house was covered in white clapboard siding that was in need of a good paint job…which was funny because that is what my dad did for a living…he was a house painter.
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