When I was seven or eight years old we lived in a tiny two room apartment.* There were only three of us so it could have been worse, but space was at a premium. I’ve always been a collector of stuff; I had my little cigar box full of items accumulated over my short span of years.
I don’t know where the idea came from but I decided to open a store. Our bedroom/living room window overlooked the alley from the second floor. I scavenged a torn piece of cardboard, scrawled “Beth’s Store” on it, tied it to a piece of string, opened the window and lowered it to the alley. (more…)