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  • Zach Lella


I am standing outside the house, counting the rusty red bricks on the ground, doing anything to prolong my standing outside. I can hear what’s going on in the house, lots of yelling and screaming in the kitchen, but lots of laughing in the living room. I smell the delicious oven roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. I know what will happen when I walk in. Jaws will drop, eyebrows will raise, eyes will stare excessively, hopefully for just a few seconds. But I’m still standing outside. Take one last look at the bricks, and finally open the door.

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