1

I dreaded the ride back. The absent Elizabeth with her smelly turtle that I wish disappeared. Why did I need to finish school, I could live in this boring but colorful place forever.

2

I wake up wet, soaking wet. God, did I wet myself. No. I smell smoke. Charles is standing over me with the water hose. The pieces of my jeans are covered in black film. I dropped the lighter fluid too close.

3

Sleeping on the floor with my cousins while great grandma sleep in a tiny metal frame bed. Layers of homemade quilts keeping us warm and when Joseph peed keeping us dry. Mornings started with with a plate of liver pudding, grits, and eggs. The strange words and songs jumping across the table as my grandma and great grandmother spoke open my eyes to the beautiful world of language. My language. I would watch their lips move as they sip coffee and ate cornmeal.

4

I seem to keep missing my fathers call, leaving him several messages. We were in different time zones, but the buzzing noise inside me says keep calling. I keep having the same dream. My father on a small boat, in the middle of a foggy river. Sad, always sad. No responses for a couple of days now. Something isn’t right.