She hated their Michigan Basement; cement brick walls and a dirt floor. If not for the washing machine being down there, she had no reason to be down there. She started her laundry and turned to run back upstairs when the sight of her father’s well-stocked workbench caught her eye.
Hammers, hand saws, baby food jars of nails, all lined up neat and tidy. She noticed but wondered why he didn’t, that something was missing. A shudder ran through her body to think what would happen if he found that she stashed his chisel under her mattress and why.