Personal Narrative: My Abuelitos
Bronte Perez
9.29
Dazzle Writing
The Photo
It sits on the whitish nightstand, a gentle reminder on a hectic day of bustling and forced dialogue to relax and reminisce. Wrapped in its faded wooden cerulean frame, the snapshot transports me to another place. While the actual photograph is slightly sun-bleached, the memory stands clear and vibrant in my mind. My Abuelitos and I are sitting in a row on the shore. Our chairs are bright cherry red. I’m wearing my favorite aquamarine Little Mermaid two-piece, the one with the sparkly flounder on the side. My strong, hardworking Abuelo sports his usual slicked back hairstyle and striped collared shirt that always seemed to complement his olive toned skin. My Abuelita garbs a crisp linen shirt …show more content…
But instantly I remember again, and with every stride comes an inch more of pain, making me yearn for the cool water to heal my burnt steaks. Seagulls scout for food, hurtling towards the magma if only for a taste of someone’s forgotten potato chip. My primas have already beaten me to the sea. They heave their bluegreen buckets with mustard yellow handles into the water, plunging salty mixture onto the land to fill the handcrafted moat that will protect their beloved sand princess from malicious criminals. Of course no castle is fit for a princess without twisty shells in an array of a tints and hues. I snag a glimpse of the other seemingly perfect castles around us, built with care in creating the ideal landscape, truly an architect’s paradise, but none compare. We romp in the sand for what seems like only a few minutes before my Abuela calls my name. She hands me a meal suitable for the engineer that I converted to that day. Spicy peppers and tomatoes scatter around my mouth before the cooling lime sensation mixes with the cilantro and carne asada paired perfectly with a tortilla de maiz. I gulp it down before she can say, “Despacito mijita.” And like all devoted grandmothers, passes me a glistening grape Fanta before I voiced I was
9.29
Dazzle Writing
The Photo
It sits on the whitish nightstand, a gentle reminder on a hectic day of bustling and forced dialogue to relax and reminisce. Wrapped in its faded wooden cerulean frame, the snapshot transports me to another place. While the actual photograph is slightly sun-bleached, the memory stands clear and vibrant in my mind. My Abuelitos and I are sitting in a row on the shore. Our chairs are bright cherry red. I’m wearing my favorite aquamarine Little Mermaid two-piece, the one with the sparkly flounder on the side. My strong, hardworking Abuelo sports his usual slicked back hairstyle and striped collared shirt that always seemed to complement his olive toned skin. My Abuelita garbs a crisp linen shirt …show more content…
But instantly I remember again, and with every stride comes an inch more of pain, making me yearn for the cool water to heal my burnt steaks. Seagulls scout for food, hurtling towards the magma if only for a taste of someone’s forgotten potato chip. My primas have already beaten me to the sea. They heave their bluegreen buckets with mustard yellow handles into the water, plunging salty mixture onto the land to fill the handcrafted moat that will protect their beloved sand princess from malicious criminals. Of course no castle is fit for a princess without twisty shells in an array of a tints and hues. I snag a glimpse of the other seemingly perfect castles around us, built with care in creating the ideal landscape, truly an architect’s paradise, but none compare. We romp in the sand for what seems like only a few minutes before my Abuela calls my name. She hands me a meal suitable for the engineer that I converted to that day. Spicy peppers and tomatoes scatter around my mouth before the cooling lime sensation mixes with the cilantro and carne asada paired perfectly with a tortilla de maiz. I gulp it down before she can say, “Despacito mijita.” And like all devoted grandmothers, passes me a glistening grape Fanta before I voiced I was