Disclaimer: All characters are property of Marvel and I don't own any of
them and stuff.
*******
Angelo Espinosa trudged up to his front porch. Somewhere in the back of his mind the smell of his front lawn was familiar to him. He looked at the dried, unwatered grass the old run down car that sat in the driveway and thought to himself how weird it was to be home.
Home. Wow there's a word he never thought he'd use again here in Los Angeles, but if this is home then why did he feel so bad about knocking on his own front door. Should he even knock he thought to himself as he brought his gray knuckles just inches from the door.
There were obvious reasons why he felt bad about being. Most of all is his assumed death. Secondly is how deeply religious his mother is and she might see him as a haunting spirit or even worse work herself into shock.
He took his hand away from the door and wondered how she would react to seeing him after all these years. His own Mom afraid of him he thought or maybe it was his own fear keeping him from walking in. The guilt of having to look his mother in her eyes. The years of lying that he has lived with making the few inches he stood from the door seem like a mile. Slowly he backed away from the accusing door shoving his hands in his pockets he walked down the street.
"Third time this week." He said to himself as he picked up speed. "Guess I'll try again tomorrow."
*******
Angelo Espinosa trudged up to his front porch. Somewhere in the back of his mind the smell of his front lawn was familiar to him. He looked at the dried, unwatered grass the old run down car that sat in the driveway and thought to himself how weird it was to be home.
Home. Wow there's a word he never thought he'd use again here in Los Angeles, but if this is home then why did he feel so bad about knocking on his own front door. Should he even knock he thought to himself as he brought his gray knuckles just inches from the door.
There were obvious reasons why he felt bad about being. Most of all is his assumed death. Secondly is how deeply religious his mother is and she might see him as a haunting spirit or even worse work herself into shock.
He took his hand away from the door and wondered how she would react to seeing him after all these years. His own Mom afraid of him he thought or maybe it was his own fear keeping him from walking in. The guilt of having to look his mother in her eyes. The years of lying that he has lived with making the few inches he stood from the door seem like a mile. Slowly he backed away from the accusing door shoving his hands in his pockets he walked down the street.
"Third time this week." He said to himself as he picked up speed. "Guess I'll try again tomorrow."