Writing 101: Home Sweet, Over-Crowded, Home (Sept. 28)

Walking down the street, headed home with a heavy backpack and a smile, I strolled with my face glowing. I saw him in math class, Mr. Chocolate Chip sat him as my partner.

It seems as I blinked and stood in front of the gate leading to that wooden door, which led to my domain. I stared. I stood there and stared, wondering what (if anything) I would reveal to my niece. Normally a niece and an aunt don’t have as close a relationship as me and her, but alas we live in the same bedroom. She is only two years younger than me.

Walking up the long, straight pavement walkway amongst the shadows of the Chinese oak trees I felt the warmth radiating from the small yellow kitchen where my mother was making homemade flour tortillas. I could smell the frijoles, arroz, and pollo wafting from the kitchen window that faced the front yard.

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