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COLLAGE

“Richard!” Mother yelled. I am back in my childhood home. It looks like the same basic Los Angeles home. We lived on the West Side in Malibu. Our house was painted white and blue. We had a nice backyard. No basemen. The beach was within walking distance. Yup, we were living the American dream. With a nice white picket fence to boot.

I rush up to mother as Danielle, my little sister who is only two years younger than me, stands there. By looking at her hair do and the type of braids that she has, she must be eight so I must be ten. Mother and her look ready to go out somewhere. Probably shopping.

“We’re going to Macy’s.” Mother said.