“Chasing the Echoes of Home: A Journey Through Memory and Migration”

My legs felt wobbly. The unbearable onion stench was making me nauseous. I tried to recall the Louis Armstrong song that had been playing on the stereo during dinner, with its madcap trumpet riffs, but couldn’t remember anything beyond the phrase, “It’s a Wonderful World.”

“Boo!” Ginnie yelled, and almost knocked me off my feet. She struck a match and held it under her chin. “It’s a good night for ghost stories.” When she laughed diabolically, a shudder ran through me. The angle of the light twisted her into a menacing waif. I was relieved when the match scalded her fingers, and she was forced to blow it out.

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