My memories.

My youngest memories belong to Monclova, a little city in Coahuila, Mexico

I remember I was 3 years old, and I had many many neighbours, most of the kids there were my age or a little bit older, it was really fun.

I think I ate a rock because some kid called Carlos dared me, it wasn’t pretty.

There was an older girl that always organized our games or activities for the day.

I was one of the oldest kids, I remember most of the other children looked up on me.

There was a little dessert in the middle of our neighborhood, that was our playground for most of our games.

Many of the families that lived there moved to Saltillo, our families were dear friends, my mom and their moms, dads and dads, and kids with kids.

We grew up, and I had to move places because of my dad’s work.

I still see some of my childhood friends when I’m on vacations.

They’ve all grown up a lot, the girls grew pretty, some of the boys grew up to be geeks, others play soccer or tennis, the point is we all grew up.

I remember all of our adventures in that creepy old house, or the midnight-killer, a guy that follows children when they’re out late at night.