My Secret Place Essay

Where the World Disappears Mary, a real estate agent, unlocks the door of the flat and lets me in. I give the flat a quick glance. Everything looks fine. â€Å"Do you like it?† Mary seems a bit impatient. It is our third flat and she has the right to behave so. â€Å"Yeah, I think so†. But I have not seen the window sill yet. Strange? Silly? I agree. But what can I do if the window sill for me is the place where the world starts and disappears? When I was a child. I was often ill and had very few chances of playing outdoors. That was when the window sill of my bedroom became a place for me to keep in touch with the rest of the world. We lived in the city center and there was always something going on in the street: the cars parked very close to each other, dogs, which seemed to take their owners for long walks rather than vice versa, stray cats trying to catch fat pigeons, my next door neighbors arguing passionately provided a wonderful entertainment for a bored child. Later during my teenage years I learned that if you want to escape the fear of being lonely, insecure or laughed at, the easiest way is to draw up the curtains and get on the window sill with a book. You create a barrier between you and your fear, which makes the world disappear and the fine fabric of you curtains is stronger than bricks and iron. I am not a teenager anymore, but when I feel bad and everything seems to go wrong, I still need my secret place. I get on a window sill of my bedroom with a cup of tea, a bar of chocolate and my favorite book and the problems no longer exist.