Nothing has happened. Nothing will happen. I’ll probably be able to go back to California soon.” Minerva mumbled the mantra to herself as she walked back from the corner bodega that was three blocks away from their tenement with some seasonings and spices she had picked up to use with dinner. I love fall. I’ll miss it when I get back to California. Which will be soon, because nothing has happened and nothing will… After another week in New Jersey, over two months in all, she was starting to feel like a native. The fall came in with a bang and soon all the leaves on the trees in the neighborhood started turning these vibrant colors. She’d never seen anything like it growing up in Los Angeles. She’d seen pictures of fall foliage, but nothing could take the place of the yellows, oranges, rusts, browns and smatterings of green that transformed the trees. And it wasn’t as if there were a whole lot of trees in the neighborhood where she was hiding out, but what few there were looked magnificent.
