He likes to spend some time to himself. Like him, I would rather be by myself every now and then. Love of books seems to originate from him and my uncle, my mum’ s youngest brother. My father’ s mom, not knowing me personally, only through my mum’ s words, has told my mum before that I seem like a mirror image of my father and a replica of my grandfather.
It surprises me how one can have so much in common with someone unknown because of the genetics.
I look at myself, my reflection. Sometimes, some days, I do not see myself. I see strangers. The contour of“ my” face, occupied by eyes retelling my own stories from the depths, but folktelling theirs from the format of my genes.
By: Vianney Chavez