Coventry

Will H.

Coventry Revised



As I crouched down on the cool, dry, cement sidewalk, my flexibility was put to test as I uncomfortably crossed my legs. The smell of wood, and “Nag Champa” incense saturated the air. Each time the door of Passport to Peru was opened, I caught a cool breeze from the wind pushing off of the large wooden door, for I sat only feet from its entrance. I took notice of the orange and white barrels, scattered randomly on the opposite side of the street, announcing the construction Coventry was undergoing. The ye...