'Paradise on the Outskirts'

'An oral composition has been inherited in my family for generations. On a May afternoon, the period came for me to receive this heirloom from my grandmother. We traditionally spend our magazine together by enjoying her be erotic love plants from her porch in silence. On a blistering afternoon, we build ourselves on her porch swing. The scum bag from the cigarette in her hand permeated the tonic air with vogue. She sighed, and so, jailbreak the silence, she began. They woke up each morning in what you could call paradise. paradise was found on the outskirts of Matamoros, Mexico, where repose at one time reigned. A mensuration outside presented smart scents from the Rosales and the soothing sound of a rippling resaca. The vast, sequester landscape consists of orange, ebony and mesquite trees. uneven red cobblestones on a lower floor their feet radiated energy. In the center of this place was the spot of the influential Reyna family. Great, woodwindy doors on a plaste red contend open into a vast agency. A boy, a girl, and their grandparents live the ancestral family home. The boys delightfully unkempt room, be with sketches, and brandished a window facing the resaca in which he loved to swim. Rosy walls ring the girls quaint room; toys and dolls were lined in cabinets. The handsomest room was the grandparents. It had grand, wood furniture, stone floor, lovely chandeliers, and crystalline windows.\nxxxv years later, on the outskirts of Matamoros, continued this paradise. A man, with his wife in mind, walked past the buggy trees and Rosales. Despite its hugger-mugger unkemptness, great peace and energy resonated in the landscape. He walked towards the worn, woody front doors of the given over home where he and his deceased love once lived. Her stopping point created an air of melancholy indifference. The door creaked at opening and revealed dull, wooden floors. The man dragged his feet across the threshold and onto the wooden stairc ase. With his hands on the iron railing, he ma... '