Sing When They Take To the Highway
When I left a month ago, it was winter. This evening, I walked to the family store in a light spring rain. My friends filled my refrigerator with fresh vegetables and light Lebanese food. My new couch is gorgeous. My apartment smells like sachets and air fresheners I like. After a month of almost no television, RAI news is on in Italian in my living room. I cannot get used to speaking above a whisper.
Finally, I have come home.