My Grandmother's Couch

It was green and fit perfectly in her living room, like the room was built around it. It was always there, for as long as I could remember. We never sat on it, okay well not never. But when people did sit on the couch it looked like they shouldn't be there. We sat on the floor we sat on the other chairs, but never the couch, unless there was a houseful was left empty and alone.

It was green and it had wooden arms with a scroll on them. I remember tracing my finger along that scroll over and over while laying on the carpet in front of it. I remember as a little girl crawling behind that couch and looking for the cat underneath the flap on the front of the couch.

It was green and scratchy. It was almost uncomfortable to sit on that couch. But sometimes I would climb upon it to touch all the handmade pillows that adorned the back of it. The ruffles, the stitching, the flowers, I traced them all with my fingers. They each had a place on the back of the couch and if you moved one she could tell.

Wow, three minutes goes a lot quicker than I thought. These are memories associated with my Grandmother's couch for a writing assignment by the lovely ladies at Hallmark, the lovely Casey and the lovely Stephanie. If you want to read about other couches or get the details to write about your own, go here.