Last Night.

Hey, what would you do if you knew you only had one more night in your house?

I would sit on my couch in the living room and light a fire in the fireplace, cozying up with a good book or my homework as my mom works on the couch across from me. There would be snow outside and I would have just come inside from playing in it. I would look outside at the tracks I made and measure how much snow has fallen based on the clean pile on the porch table that looks kind of like a huge cake.

I would make Wacky Mac and invite over all of my friends, the ones who are off living their lives in Israel or doing grown up things.

I would turn around the couches and pull down the screen and host a movie night. It would be Star Wars, maybe. Or maybe Miracle. I’d forget that I never actually liked the movies and remember that I loved the movie nights.

I would light the Chanukah candles by the windowsill and look onto the street and press my nose against the window to distinguish between what was outside and what was reflecting from inside.

I would sit in my den at the little plastic table as Fievel: An American Tale played for the fifth time, and I would color a really great picture for my babysitter who left three years ago.

I would go under the covers of my babysitter’s bed and watch PBS on her crinkly TV, home sick from school.

I would sit at the kitchen table in my pajamas as the sun streamed through the windows, basking in the rays and feeling the ice cold tile floor on my feet. I would sit there until the rain started, until I could hear it against the windows on the ceiling.

I would sneak down to the kitchen for a nighttime snack of crackers, or maybe an apple with cheese.

I would sit on the kitchen island counter with my cousin and friends and crack the marble all over again. It would be an accident, because we’re not the types to be able to crack a counter. It would follow a great night. Continue reading →