We’ve moved over to the other side of Bradford, Leicester Street off Wakefield Road. I don’t know why we have moved and never will. We’re in a small house, a back to back. The kitchen is a sink on the wall, the toilet is outside, and I share a bed with my sister. It’s cramped and cold but we have a TV, a black and white one. I remember watching the TV but not what the programme was. We’re not here long. I have few memories of Leicester Street. The house is not there now. It was pulled down years ago together with my memories of living here.

Comments
  1. Romantic Ninja says:

    This is something I experienced a few times, the physical place where memories got built is torn down, But I guess it just shows us how precious the memories are outside time and space? 🙂

    Like

  2. janetkwest says:

    That’s uncomfortable. I did something close after a divorce.

    Liked by 1 person

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