The first house on my lane is home to two dogs. I don’t know their names, but I do know they have the loudest bark on the block. The second house on my lane boasts a flashy, vintage car. On sunny days, the hood gleams from the driveway. The third house on my lane is brown. A comfy, earthy brown that is on my list of colors to paint my future home. The fourth house on my lane is bright blue, with green trim. A rock wall encases this colorful, candy house. The fifth house on my lane is the Christmas House. Its deep red walls are trimmed by small green fir trees full of winter magic. The sixth house on my lane belongs in the country. It has a huge wraparound porch adorned with yellow twinkly lights. The white picket fence hides a large, green backyard complete with wildflowers. The last house on my lane is the home I used to live in. We moved right next door a couple years ago, and the backyard is still reminiscent of sledding, soccer, and childhood dreams. There are other dreams in the house I live in now, but none of them are mine.
By Isabela Pap ‘24, Creative Writing Editor
