Top of the Wardrobe

The highest shelf in the house. Officially: storage. Actually: where the birthday presents hide every single year, in the same carrier bag, behind the suitcase.

Intelligence gathered from up here

• The bag is up there NOW. It has been up there since Tuesday. It rustles like a game box. I am saying nothing.
• Surprise is a team effort: they pretend the bag is invisible, I pretend falling off the stool in June was an accident.
• Also stored here: baby photos of me (blackmail grade), a suitcase nobody can open, and Christmas decorations that fear nothing.
• The stool wobbles. The stool has always wobbled. Intel is gathered at personal risk and shared with no one.

The house remembers you came by — it wrote your name down in pencil.

Climb back down to the porch · See the tally on the site map