Of Wardrobes and Gratitude

I hid in the wardrobe and listened to their worried voices calling my name.

“Heather? Heather! Where are you?! Where IS she?”

I’d never climbed in there before. This was a one-off. I remember drawing my knees up under my chin, feeling the clothes against my face and drawing the solid sliding door closed to within an inch or so – the most shut I could make it while curling my 10 year old fingers around the edge from the inside.

Continue reading “Of Wardrobes and Gratitude”