by Mitch Lee
It was mid November in 1979, and my room had not seen a good cleaning in quite some time. My mother was very firm that no forays to the outdoors would occur until my room was dusted and vacuumed and I could see the floor.
I was pretty good at making piles out of my clothes, books, and art materials.
Most were piled on shelves or under the bed… and my closet had a life all its own. Continue reading