Ima. I want to speak to her so much, it actually hurts
I wake up at seven a.m.. The joys of traveling long-distance. My body clock is totally off schedule.
I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t. And it’s far too early to go wandering around Bubby’s house, I don’t want to disturb my grandparents or anything. If I had my suitcases, I could unpack and try to settle in, but I don’t have them, so instead, I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, wishing I could just call Ima.
Scratch that; if I’m making a wish anyway, it’s gotta be that I’m on a plane back home.
What was I even thinking?
I must have fallen asleep again, because when I next check the time, a couple of hours have passed. I change my T-shirt for a hooded sweatshirt — the only spare item of clothing I had in my carry-on — and head downstairs, where my grandparents are both eating toast and sipping coffees.
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