The days of my boyhood long gone were spent in the good old days of America

The days of my boyhood long gone were spent in the good old days of America, in Mississippi, full of emotion and charm, in a log cabin on the brink of demolition. My childhood, when I admired Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, was depicted in a faded photo of two mischievous boys sulking on a corkboard on the wall. When I close my eyes, the days of adventure that felt like my own come to mind without even turning the page. My days of excitement and thrills, cut out from my memory, are like illustrations in a sepia-colored novel, inviting me to a hometown that I can never reach, but that certainly existed in my heart.

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