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Stories in my head

April 5, 2013

When I was a child, there were stories in my head. I would write them down in a little diary, thinking they were story lines that I would write into full-fledged stories when I grew up.

Here is one, and I’m paraphrasing from the diary that is still there, hidden among childhood memorabilia.

There is a house with many rooms. Different types of music come from each room. From the children’s room, there are nursery rhymes. From the teenager’s room there is loud music. From the parents’ room there is classical music.

 

One day when I was really grown up, a parent, a ‘housewife’, a researcher and other grown-up things, I realized with a start that I had not written that story in pages of a book. It had written itself in my home! 

When I wrote it, it was rare for a household to have more than one music system. We had those big floor-standing gramophones or radios – and one was usually enough for a household. The music that would play was what the parents wanted. It still amazes me that I could have foreseen – or perhaps dreamed- of a time when each could listen to what they wanted!

I was wrong about one thing, though. Not all parents listen to classical music.

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6 Comments leave one →
  1. April 5, 2013 7:34 am

    Congratulations to the story writer!

  2. April 5, 2013 8:53 am

    Congrats

  3. April 7, 2013 11:58 am

    ” It had written itself in my home! ” so lovely a thing to do.

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