Homecoming
Sep 2, 2018 · 3 min read

Jeffrey walked into the kitchen and was hit with the heat and smells of Mama’s cooking all at once, and he felt at home. Weeks had passed since he’d been there. He was covered in filth and soot and he tugged at the bottom of his hooded sweatshirt awkwardly; tried smoothing back his matted curls into a rhyme or reason. Jeffrey knew it was no use. He wore the streets like a uniform.

