Chapter 8
Dear Bump,
Aunt Frannie and I visited the city today. We rode the bus and took the subway. We got off somewhere in the middle of the city. I saw a man sleeping inside a plastic bag. His toe nails were so long, they folded over. His hair was like dirty cotton candy. Aunt Frannie kept pointing to things. “See, that’s the Mount Royal. We have a mountain in the middle of our island.”
Montreal is an island. Same as Hawaii. I don’t think I knew that.
“Look, Red, that’s the Chinese district.”
Everyone there looked just like Jesse Chao, and it smelled like roasted peanuts or something. They have a statue of noble lions guarding the street. They have purple vegetables and big green fruits sitting in cardboard boxes all along the sidewalk. Half of the food I’d never seen before. They
