I walked down mainstreet, passing the bums and addicts, as of now the streets were safe.
Noon was approaching, but I'm almost there now. The sun was high in the southern sky. I continued to walk down mainstreet until it split it two directions, left towards the "Crack-house district" and right towards the "homes". I went right and continued to walk.

Now what I was passing was a series of houses and small two family apartments, most yards fenced off with a low chainlink fence. Most all the houses were made in the 1950's, some older, some newer…all run down and worn with age. I smiled slightly as I reached a small house with a large garden in the front, a small [worn, ancient] white picket fence surround the yard. I turned and opened the gate, I remember smelling the lilacs, and even in this fall season, she could grow such flowers. An old woman was digging in the soil, she was humming "Amazing Grace", and damn she could sing. She looked up at me and smiled.
"Hello Child." she had a slight Jamaican like accent.
"Hey Grandma how you been?" I smiled and said. She looked at me strangely and replied,
"You trouble again? What I tell you bout those bad tings you be doin?" I laughed and replied.
"I know Grandma, trouble always needs company and looks only for the innocent." She laughed and raised to her feet, she motioned her arm for me to follow her and she moved towards the door.
"Come Child, I make you some tea."
"Thank you grandma" I followed her through her broken screen door.

The inside of her house was unlike any other, except it was old and tired, the paint was chipped and the floor crept as you walked on it. I used to spend my school days here. Everyday after school I would ride my bike here and help with what ever needed to be done. I fell bad that I stopped, but I always manage to find my way back here, when my wife died, when my dogg [best friend] was shot, even when I would fail a test in school [when I say school I mean before 10th grade]. This is my place of solitude.

Grandma placed a kettle on the boil and walked my to the kitchen table, we sat down and we talked about how she's been, how I've been, about grandpa [R.I.P], and then she asked me why I look a little shaken up. I told her that may man was shot up and the place I was staying was destroyed. I never lied to grandma, but sometimes one has to tell partial truths to get by. She offered me to stay at about the time the kettle howled. I tried to decline as she stood up but she insisted so I had to take her up on it. She had always had a room set up for me, ever since I was young, like I said before; I used to be here a lot. She poured some water into a cup for me and placed a tea bag into it, she always knew what my favorite of everything was, in this case Earlgray. She told me I am always welcome to stay here. We continued to walk for what seemed like an eternity about politics, gardening, sports, and even music. I could talk about anything to her and she would listen, then she would talk to me, but she had a flare in her talk, you know like the late great Martin Luther King jr. and other such great speakers. I was compelled.

Evening soon came and I helped her make dinner, Stuffed Peppers, peas, and corn. Another of my favorites. We ate, I then said I was going to go out for a while. She told me to be careful and I agreed. I left her house and began to walk towards the "Crack-House district"…

(I didn’t want to type out 4 pages of a Convo. So I summed it up >=-)