is the hallway.
(My room on the left, my brother's room on the right.)
It's where I read my scriptures every night, because my little sister was sleeping in the room.
It's where I gained my testimony of said scriptures, often losing myself to the canon until way-too-late-o-clock.
It's where I hated scrubbing fingerprints off the walls during spring cleaning.
It's where pictures of all of us as babies used to hang.
It's where I watched a one-year-old Sunshine fall down the stairs, and my mother dive after him. (Him: a bruise. Her: a shattered foot and three screws.)
It's where my brother and I would whisper at the end of the day, both of us sitting cross-legged in our respective doorways, sometimes leaning against the frame when it got too late to hold up our heads. Snorting and laughing and being serious, too - and always listening for the creak of Mom's footsteps to tell us to GO TO BED ALREADY.
I will probably miss that hallway more than anywhere else in the house.