Returned by Alli Kunkle
Every year, with each passing day after my sorrowful departure, the details of the house and my vacation fade until they are just brief outlines of my experiences. The décor is the same. It hasn’t been replaced or changed in my seventeen years of life, not even once. The same old, brown wicker furniture, the same 90’s television set, the same gray shag rug covered in sand and dog hair, the same jars of beach glass covering the shelves, the same fake, forPLGDEOH UHSOLFDV RI ÀVK P\ JUDQGSD KDG FDXJKW LQ KLV JROGHQ \HDUV FRYHULQJ the walls– it is obvious that this house belongs to my grandparents. The only thing that I have seen change in my seventeen years are the photographs; as we get older, my grandparents add more photos of me, my sister, my cousins, P\ DXQWV DQG XQFOHV , EUHDWKH D VLJK RI UHOLHI EHFDXVH , KDYH ÀQDOO\ UHWXUQHG
78