family and dog and taco bell. I also miss our cozy mr. Rogers
neighborhood with friends we can stop by and visit, a shop around the
corner where we can buy the sunday new york times, the picnic table in
our yard from which we often greet friends strolling by with their
kids and dogs.
I am especially missing that at this moment, as i sit outside our
locked gate, waving taxi dust out of my eyes as i wait for Trevor to
get home with our one key. If i were locked out in america, i could
walk to my parents' house or seek refuge with a neighbor- we know most
everybody on our street. Here, i swat mosquitos and get stared at by
all the strangers passing by.