I’m sitting in my family home enjoying a cup of tea, for what will most likely be the last time. After 26 years we are moving on and I’m left of the thought provoking cliché of “If the walls could talk, what would they say?”
A family has made, broken and rebuilt in this house. An infinite number of people have walked through the halls, curled up on the sofas and slept on the floors. But if the walls could talk what stories would stand out?
Would the most memorable moments be when I threw weetabix at my sister for calling me immature? Or the time my friend accidently squeezed my hamster to death? When my mum opened the fridge too fast, wasn’t looking and knocked my sister out? What about when my sister slammed her hand through the front door?
Would it be my father and I sliding up…
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