THE BLUE ROOM ON BLOOM
The blue room of the Maloney place always freaked us out. The biggest house on the clock, the Maloney’s house was. One of those that was built at least 30 years after any house in the neighborhood. Tacky, out of place, alien. Like it was plopped down by a jokester god, right on top of a historical landmark.
There were always stories about the Maloney’s themselves. Old money family, strange nightowls, even a story that involved their oldest boy, Scott, going insane in the high school lunchroom, leaping onto tables, whacking off on the head cheerleader’s square pizza. I suspected that none of these things had much validity (besides the old money), but the blue room was as real as a snakebite.
We’d pass by day or night and the light of the blue room would cast an eerie blanket on Bloom Street. It’s weird because all of their other windows (all eight of them) had long, white curtains, keeping prying eyes away. But the blue room was always visible and glowing.
-SLL
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