I can’t even count how many times I’ve been asked, “How did you get into writing?” I don’t think everyone who asks that question is prepared for the real, philosophical, drawn-out answer that includes experiences too personal to be included in a casual conversation.
I remember the first time I got jumped. The streets were the type of empty that allows you to see ten blocks straight without a car or person in sight. It was the middle of the night, somewhere between 11 pm and 2 am. My friends and I were hanging out in our building when we decided to go hoop at the courts that were behind the projects a few blocks away.