There are certain things I still remember from my childhood forty years later. It is strange how an incident so shocking and vivid to a child appears only as clips from a movie to me now. We were at a party when they both grabbed my hands and we took off running. There was a blood covered knife hanging from someones arm, it was as if it was right in my face. It was something that no three year old should be exposed to.
Why can I still recall 41 Bartlett Street in Williamsburg, Brooklyn? This house showed our success because it was an improvement from a storefront flat. I would sit behind a pegboard desk in the middle of our furniture-less living room with Mrs. Ashell nearby until my Dad would come home. He would always walk in with something, once a roll of linoleum.
I grew at age four. I would walk by myself from my home on Bartlett street to John Lee's laundry which was near Myrtle Avenue elementary. I stood out being so small and not J walking when everyone else was. No one seemed concerned they passed by me as if I was an adult.
Reflection: I liked this exercise, and it actually helped me understand what I was reading because I had to break his words down. I did not like Villanueva's writing style. To me, it was very choppy and hard to understand.
No comments:
Post a Comment