I m a Dyke part II
Part II When my mother broke up with her boyfriend, we moved to poor suburbia. It consisted of tracks and tracks of cheep townhouses, there were about five units to a building, each with three rooms upstairs and a tiny back yard. There was a bodega in walking distance and crack house down the street. In the summertime the air was filled with the sounds of an ice cream truck I never bought anything from. My parents' divorce was finally settled. In the end, my dad kept the house and...