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Can’t Go Back

a memoir

I’m seven and like every weekend, I’m at my grandma Roberts’ house. I like my grandma’s house; it is the prettiest on the block! My grandma loves flowers. She has flowers everywhere in her yard— pink ones, purple ones— I don’t know all of their names, but she has a lot of roses too. And they smell so good! My grandpa shapes the bushes in the front of the house to look like spirals. All of the colors are really pretty; everything is always perfect, like in a magazine. Last summer she won a contest for the most beautiful yard. And she’s nice. She’s always smiling and joking with me. Continue reading Can’t Go Back