We've arrived in Milano and I feel right at home as I always do here. Dad doesn't mention my mom, I guess she's still in Los Angeles, sipping long drinks by the swimming pool.
LA, it's been so long I can almost not remember what it felt like. I can picture our house in my head but not the smells, not the colors. I don't miss it but it's something that's been close to me all my life, and now it's only a fading memory.
Isn't it strange how quickly we forget?