$Local Network Broadcast Publishing™ ($LNBP™)

It wasn't immediate. It took some time before I realized that I was on a bus. My soul felt cheated. All the anticipation. The sleepless nights. Packing. The simplest thing on earth to do. When you're twenty-two -- with back home with the mom, grandma and little baby niece being your only guaranteed shelter and three meals one-stop pitstop for the mid-year holiday -- it's not rocket science to pack a suitcase. It's common knowledge. Fill it with laundry, and brace yourself. I'm braced. I'm going to get home. My grandmother Anna -- a true woman of the earth, bless her -- is going to throw a fit as usual. It happens every year. I don't mind it. I wouldn't be half the person I am today were it not for 'Banana', as my cousin Freddy and I call her. She has taught me a lot about love. My grandfather Charles was a violent man. I have two memories from my childhood. The first being the day when I saw Banana backing away. I was standing in the bathroom.

Once there was a girl who sat on a bench. It was a full moon. The night was still but for the drone of voices filling the small cracks in between the silence. Lost in thought, and wandering through cold and barren streets, my path crossed her’s. She opened a box of cigarettes and she pulled one out as I neared. “Hi.” said I with a smile. “Hello,” she said with a bright beam. “May I borrow your lighter?” I asked. “Yes, you may indeed!” said she. She foraged in her handbag for a second and pulled out a green lighter. There was nothing special about the lighter. It was green. It was a lighter. I reached out for it and she gently placed it in my hand. I felt her hand. It was soft. I looked up from behind the cigarette projecting out from under my nose and I saw for the first time how truly beautiful she was. “Thank you,” I said. “Are you studying tonight,” she asked. I imagine that’s what she had asked. I cannot recall. I was trapped by her smile. It was an average smile. I h