One of the earliest memories
One of the earliest memories from my childhood - I'm standing inside a white plastic box in the middle of the 'dark' room (that's what we called it). Its walls reach up to my shoulders, and from the hallway my parents are looking at me, talking about something. Everything is in shades of orange, the air is warm and dense, and every day brings joy.
I rarely visit home but sometimes see that box. I never found out where it came from or what it was for. These days it holds random little things - pieces of wood left over from repairs and fishing rods with no one left to use them for six years.