Setting as the World: The Tent in My Living Room
My first house was the smallest of the three houses I have lived in. I lived in the first house from the time I was born till about the age of six. I remember spending a lot of time in the living room. Like the rest of my house, my living room was small but comfortable. The living room was often a place for relaxation, family time, or watching television, but there is one specific activity I remember doing in my living room that always brings a smile to my face. I use to, believe it or not, camp out in the living room with my brother.
I owned a small, red Lion King tent that was stationed in a corner of my living room. I use to imagine the soft, red carpet was actually soft, green grass. The table in the center of the living room would transform into a campfire before my eyes. The plain, rough textured ceiling would suddenly brighten up with stars when the lights turned off. I clearly remember the “swoosh” sound the tent use to make as I tossed and turned trying to find the perfect spot. The cream colored walls would mold into mysterious trees with one blink of my eye. My brother was much older than I was and sometimes felt forced to camp out with me, but I loved every minute of it. During the day my living room was a place of safety but come night time a magical world would open up and my imagination could do as it pleased.