The first time I remember moving was the summer of 1991. We moved from Jacksonville, Florida to a very small town in the middle of Georgia that rarely shows up on any maps. I was seven years old. The real estate agent was taking us to visit potential houses and my parents were leaning towards a large, 3-bedroom ranch. I was running up and down the
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Also...where in Delaware? That's where the spousebeast is from.
Nice piece. I like what you did with the prompt.
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Thanks. :)
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And when I say fifth grade material, I mean fifth grade material for that school. The kids could barely read those "I Can Read" books geared toward brand new readers. We had reading time and I went to the bookshelf. Picture books. That was it. When I asked my teacher where the chapter books were, she said, "Oh honey, you're only ten and in fifth grade. You aren't old enough for chapter books yet. Wait until high school."
I brought in a Stephen King book (It) the next day and read to her. The look on her face was hilarious.
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"It's a fabulous location! Walking distance from a playground, grocery store. And within delivery distance of at least four pizza places."
"Hey, didn't the guy next door kill his wife?"
"Four pizzerias!"
"I do like pizza."
I really enjoyed this take on the prompt!
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Thanks!
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The semi-wooded property was amazing, but the house and the school district there were horrendous.
I don't want to leave this town. I love it here. I'm hoping my neighbor just moves away.
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