Nostoi DEVORA PEREZ
The sky seemed so much clearer and
hatred fester in my heart like an open wound for
closer here, maybe due to the elevation. I felt as
the rest of my life.
if I were to reach out my hands, I would be able
to touch the clouds. The colors so vivid, I was
It was about three years before, on a Sunday
dumbfounded. The soil was rich; it was visibly
night while running errands. My mother sud-
obvious that it could nurture any plant. Was I
denly broke down like a child in the car. The
not in the ghetto here? Amidst all the mud and
muffled sounds she made as she sobbed remind-
tin houses, there were colors that I had never
ed me of when I used to cry. I tried to swallow
seen in America. This foreign place was the land
hard to avoid looking at her in this vulnerable
of my parents. Tearing eyes from my surround-
state. I tried to make my heart turn to stone,
ings, I focused on the matter at hand.
my stupid attempt to be strong for her. How I
swore to hate her for inflicting such wounds in
The old lady was sitting on a wooden
I tried to recall when this hatred began.
rocking chair six feet in front of me. I tried to
my mother’s heart. I would never forgive her. My
breathe and hoped the generous burst of fresh
exact words were, “Mom, not even a bitch leaves
winds would not stop. I did not want to be here.
her pups! What right did she have to give you
I felt like a coward for coming, when I promised
away? A damn animal has more common sense
myself that I would never see this woman. I had
than she did!” It’s incredible how fragile and
already accepted the fact that I would let my
fickle a heart is, yet strong at the same time.
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