On what disappears and what once was

Landmarks disappear, squirrels roam the streets, and getting older detangles importance. Post + (intense) writing prompt.

Once upon a time, I lived a few blocks from the Wonderbread factory near downtown Columbus, Ohio. I woke to the buttery smell of fresh bread wafting through my window. My bedroom was my safe space.

Three of my walls were blue, like the sky. My father, along with my parents’ artist friends, had drawn mythical creatures near my door. One of my walls was b…