The Door, the Finger, and the Deep, Dark, Hole
Hello fellow people that are currently alive. It is I again Scoliatic with a fresh, new, story about something that happened to me as a child. This post doesn't really have much to do with scoliosis but I hope you all enjoy, share, comment, and follow. The house that I live in is old. Really old. If I remember correctly (I probably don't) its about 118 years old. Yeah, it's old. Its been remodeled and renovated a few times. It didn't use to have the now playroom connected to the house. Even the entrance positions have changed. There used to be a door where our pantry is and there's still the old doorbell there. We used to and still do to a lesser degree, press it so that people would think there was someone at the door. With the addition of our dog to our family we had to stop because she doesn't know that shes been tricked and will bark longer than I'd like to listen to. We also have a pair of sliding doors that separate the living room from the d