Every summer, I spent my vacation at my grandmother's place. She lived near the beach, where friendly dolphins and graceful humpbacks swam. Grandma's house was painted autumn leaf and surrounded by lily-white fences. It was an old house, a gingerbread house. Grandpa inherited it from his father and now that grandpa had gone home to God, grandma lived by herself.
It was a five-hour drive. I occasionally stopped to grab some food from the convenience store. Finally after a long, tiring drive, I began to small the salty air. My mind began to see the passionflower colored water, white sand, a…
