I'm going to excerpt some of my writing here, just for fun. The parts I like more/I think have more meaning.

From my newest story...which currently is title-less.

"My mom said she was on her way to the bakery to buy bread, when a man approached her singing a love song, staring her in the eyes. Antonio Silva. “He was handsome, all right,” she would tell me. Then her eyes would drop as she remembered that night. “In the morning, he was gone,” she would tell me, in a low voice. Then she would smile and say, “I lost him, but I got you, babycakes!” "

another section:

"The day I left the United States, I was 20. I had just turned 20, to be exact. Bright eyes, dull brain, chewing on my dirty fingernails and tugging at my hair, looking for something new. I was so dazed I didn’t care about anyone around me. I was a dirty rebel, inspired by Greasers and James Dean. My father was on a business trip in Chicago, and my mother was staying at home with me. When I woke up that morning, she was waiting at the foot of the stairs holding a tray with a cake on it, 20 candles lit. Her smile was wide, the candle flames reflecting off of her glasses. Her mom-ness was shining from within, brighter even the candlelight. I couldn’t help but smile, although I knew I would have to tell her sooner or later. I was leaving to be with my love."