International Writers Magazine: Neighborhood
I truly believe
it is brighter here. The sun shining on my face feels warmer more
welcoming. Maybe it is the way the trees sway in the breeze as if
waving hello. Perhaps its the way the clouds in the sky form
into pleasing shapes, made just for me. Every home is unique. They
are treasured works of art each individual has created not just
for themselves, but the enjoyment of others.
Driving by this neighborhood brightens me from the inside out. Unfortunately,
the peaceful silence is shattered by the sounds of sirens. I know what
is coming. I have been here before. Immediately the skies darken, the
doors close, and the welcome mat is removed.
This neighborhood is not mine, at least not yet. The grass here is greener,
but my skin is black and because of that, this man does not believe I
belong here. But he is wrong. I do belong here and someday I will make
this my home, but for now I will just grit my teeth and move along.
© J.A. Laraque November 2007
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