• Mathura Hawley


Updated: Aug 1, 2021

"I read books, I write fan letters, and I wonder what kind of show I would like to host someday."

I can barely contain my excitement for winter holidays like Christmas because we will be off from school for an entire week and it is warm in my parents house and smells like cooking food for days. The big table will come away from the wall and be completely opened wide by its hinges in the dining room of our factory house. After Christmas dinner ends it becomes mine, and I push it to the center of the room and drape blankets over it. Using my mother's cardboard sewing pattern board folded and turned on its side, and the back of one of the wooden table benches covered in a towel, I make an entrance you have to crawl into to get under the table. Once you are under there you can see some footstools, a small black and white tv, some books, and cushions and pillows line the back wall for guests. There is a little orange lamp borrowed from my bedroom and my portable cassette player and some tapes I have made for entertainment. You have to be under there to see any of this, and it is by invitation only. This is my "apartment," and it remains there for the entire week. My mother will knock on the "door" and come in to play games like Trouble or Uno. My friend Seri will sleep over, or help me to rearrange and decorate. My dog Puddles will get dragged in but always leave at night to be with my mother. This is where I begin watching The Tonight Show, as the tv picks up local channels by its antenna, and sometimes my Mom will crawl in and watch with me before she goes to bed. I read books, I write fan letters, and I wonder what kind of show I would like to host someday. This is where I do my best thinking. It is my place, and I feel safe, and I feel happy.

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