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Nostalgia

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I lay awake in my bed-by-night, couch-by-day. I glanced across the room to match an image to the loud, rhythmic snoring I heard. My roommate had been fast asleep for sometime now. I longed to be resting peacefully as she was, but my body would not trust this unfamiliar bed nor the freezing temperature of the room controlled by a central thermostat in a distant office.


Memories of home calmed my wandering mind. My brother, who can never sleep, would soon emerge from his room to get a glass of water. Noises from the kitchen would awaken my sister from her sleep. Moments later there would be a dull , blue flickering light seeping from under her room door.

“Genell, turn off that TV or I’ll tell Mom!” My brother would threaten my sister.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” she’d fire back. I’d hear my father’s bed slippers slide across the hall floor.

“What’s going on here?” he’d ask. “No. Don’t answer that. You’ll only make it worse for yourselves. Listen, the next voice I hear better be Katie Couric’s in the morning. If it isn’t, the source and I are going to be spending unlimited quality together time over the next few weeks. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes , sir, my siblings would murmur in unison.

Giggling myself back to reality, I shivered as the cold air coming from my dorm-room vent sent chills down my spine. It would be another three months before I could feel the warmth of my Daddy’s hug , kiss his crumb-snatching spawns, or taste my mother’s sweet cornbread. Until then I would spend my nights setting my Ipod at just the right volume trying to block the inevitable snores of my roommate , yet quiet enough not to put me to sleep.





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