About Four

One of my earliest memories is sitting on the yellow shag carpeted landing of our tiny black and white house on Knollwood Avenue in Mamaroneck watching my step father put on his red tie. I must have been about four.

There was a framed painting of a clown's face over my bed and the walls of my little bedroom were cobalt blue. A loose wire slapped the window pane during big storms and it terrified me. I slept with a human-sized stuffed blue and white rabbit and a tiny wind up round metal yellow music box that I kept under my pillow playing songs to drown out the sound of crashing thunder and the whipping wire.