On Memory

Haunted Houses

Part Two of a Four Part Series on Memory

For a portion of my life, I lived around the corner from a haunted house. I could walk to it, but I preferred to ride my bike. You had to go down an alley which contained a very satisfying hill. The hill itself was an alley that ran for two full blocks, crossing the street we lived on and continuing past the backyards of the homes. Weeds grew through the cracked concrete. Everything was cracked. It was a steel town in the 1980’s. It was all entropy, rusting factories, abandoned homes, broken…

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This is where I experiment. This is where I learn to write.

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Carvell Wallace

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This is where I experiment. This is where I learn to write.

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