Explore "Revolution Is Not a Dinner Party" by Ying Chang Compestine on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Summer ended with three weeks of nonstop rain. Everything smelled of mold. When I walked through the muddy streets, I tried not to step on the political posters the rain had washed off the walls. I hated getting my hands dirty peeling the grimy paper off my shoes.
Mother replaced the bamboo mat on my bed with cotton bedding.