My First Time in the Hospital
Cafe Du Monde, Decatur Street, French Quarter, New Orleans It was a gloomy, rainy morning in early April. A light mist fell over the cobblestone streets and red brick buildings as I walked with my sister, mom, aunt, and grandma. They were all bundled up in sweaters, coats, and rain jackets, complaining about the cold weather and rain; but I was walking in a flowy, sleeveless dress because I had brought nothing warmer. It was my first time in New Orleans , and for some reason, I expected it to be warm and sunny all the time, especially so late in the spring. I didn’t mind the rain and cold however, I always liked it that way because I thought it looked pretty. It looked even prettier in New Orleans than it did at home. “Don’t you want my jacket?” my mom questioned for the hundredth time. “No, I’m fine. We’re almost there, anyway,” I answered, smiling at her concern. We were walking to one of the nicest restaurants in the city to attend my cousin’s bridal brunch. She was about