The neighbourhood, the people around and the food. I remember it like yesterday. It was three years back when I visited my grandma. I was only 10 by then and it was a clandestine visit. My dad and mom were not aware, they could not allow me to go, and so I ran away.
When I got there, she feigned surprise and scolded me. She always loved having me around because I kept her company. We informed my parents evasively and they allowed me to stay. We talked all night and slept in the morning. I woke up around eight the next day. I looked over to the house next to mine. I saw a girl hanging clothes. I loved making friends so I went over to say hello. We talked and introduced ourselves.
Her name was Deborah; such a wonderful and vibrant name. She was skeletal, had a lighter complexion, and was one year younger and short. Within a space of two weeks, she became my best friend. We would eat at each other’s homes and play all day long. My granny’s food was out of this world. The neighbours were nice and their kids too.
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