" home is a place i call home "

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the sound of opening up the mail with a blunted envelope opener, or footsteps on the staircase when it's late in the house, or the smooth wide kitchen floor tiles being wiped down with a wet rag, or the clang of a trowel on small rocks in the soil outside in the garden, or laughter in the other room.

the smell of the chicken legs frying hot oil on the illegal outdoor stovetop, or the damp dark dank of the basement, or the sweet rice being mixed in a large bowl with the coconut milk and sugars folding over each other, or moms makeup and powders in the restroom.

the feeling of its discovery every day, and the feeling of walking away from it each time.

tonight's homework:

light a candle.

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