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Storytime x Mario Tre

short fictional musings & observations

Storytime: The Hood Line — 8.19.19

Marcia and her baby named Portia lived in Riverdale just above the Italian bakery with the hottest tamales on the block. The storefront was owned by a Mexican family now—The Sambrosas. Their name had a nice, gentrifying sound. And so it was, you see. Since the beginning of time, that bakery that dispensed charm and comfort remained a favorite branch to this tree. Perhaps it was something about that cozy corner just above the subway stop. It was after all where all the old birds used to flock. Nearby was the bowling alley that used to be a baptist church spot, Mr. C’s taco truck two streets over, and Luigi’s pizza joint always serving my slice hot. You wouldn’t believe the run-in I had with Luigi’s wife, Mu’at. Life seemed a short-lived affair as sweet as lemon pie. Always changing, and I wondered why. We might as well play dominoes, not work, and get high. And so it was. Waffling smells of a delightful jazz orchestra trampled the hood like a walrus in the sky. It was a circus, yo—a city-dweller’s delight. Oh my, we were so baptized by the light. And so it was, the thundering sound of a hopeful train chugging along the Hood Line. Parkchester, the next stop. But in Riverdale, Marcia and baby had it all—the best life, just above the Italian bakery with the hottest tamales on the block.

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