Steps as heavy as his heart carried him up the hill. He wiped away the few tears that threatened to gush out with the sight of their yellow washed adobe house. That was the last sack of pumpkin seeds he had carried from the field. Together with his mom, they would sell whatever meager harvest they had and add to the money that would see them off to better days. He sank to the ground, leaning his back on the wall. Tracing his fingers across the surface, the coarse yellow paint powdered away under this fingers. Soaked up in the afternoon sun, the wall warmed his back. This single-room house had been their home since his dad died. His mom would be preparing the dinner inside. He did not want her to hear him crying, so he stifled his sobs and dried his eyes. He had to be strong for her. In a few weeks, he would get on the bus to the city to open a new chapter in his life at the university. He promised himself that he would make everything better.
