Descriptive Essay About My House

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The Living Room in the back of my house has taught me to laugh at myself, to appreciate all that I have, and that while places may look different throughout time we are the ones who decide if that place holds a meaning to us despite its changes. My living room is a chapter of how my home in dry, flat, and hot Texas has affected who I am today and how I tell my story. The neighborhood I live in has this certain atmosphere, that once you turn on to our old grave like roads, you feel safe and at home. At the entrance you are welcomed by a park that reminds me of Sunday afternoons and sticky ice cream hands. My house sits in the middle of the neighborhood where at one end you’ve found yourself near the park and the other end you find yourself in the edge of a busy road surrounded by corner stores and our local grocery store. My box like house seemed as though parties were always occurring, but without the cars lined up and down the street, everyone around us quickly figured out that almost the entire Mondragon family had moved into the same neighborhood. Inside my house there are two living rooms. The first one is by the front door, it has mahogany floors, cream colored couches that are as soft as silk, and a round glass dinner table. This living room quickly became just for decoration. The real magic happens in the back of the house where my second living room with white tiles and ugly couches sit. The tiles were always smooth, shiny, and it always felt like you were stepping

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