Homecoming
The sun hung low in the sky, a hazy orange, as I turned the final corner to my childhood home. As I walked, the weight of my cap and gown felt impossibly heavy, the fabric pressing against my skin in a way that made every step feel like I was trudging through molasses. My graduation had just concluded. I’d received my diploma, walked across that stage with my head held high, and somehow felt lighter despite the gown’s drag. But now, that heaviness settled in my stomach — a turmoil of excitement and an undercurrent of anxiety for what waited beyond the gate.