Home Before Seven

It’s like they’ve seen a ghost when you arrive home, papa froze for a sec. The dinner table is cleared of flipped plates on top of plates, no kaldero for rice or bowls of sud-an. Uncle claps as he walks up from the basement room. Early today! Are you sick? You laugh, but don’t look at their eyes- it’s a bad habit – especially if they know you smoke pot. It could be worse, yes, but you still feel guilty about it that you keep your head down in the living room. Walking up to the room and dropping the backpack never felt like home (lately) until today.


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