
This is how I remember you: pert nose, breakfast enthusiast, forger of tears, akara hoarder. You were with me when the old woman’s mangy dog dug his teeth into my buttocks; that day we took all our Christmas money—money scrounged from returnee uncles and aunties—to the old woman’s sweet shop, to buy snacks filled with […]
from Brittle Paper http://ift.tt/2kPxr8Q
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