When I was little, my sister and I would always visit my extended family every summer in Arroyo Grande, Ca. It's a small little town, about 15 minutes from San Luis Obispo. We stayed at my Auntie's house on Newport Avenue. My Uncle, who lives there as well, is an alcoholic and smoker. My memories of being in this house come from the smell of cigarette smoke and the stench of alcohol. Anything he would say never made any sense so we would always just laugh it off. He lives in his "cave" downstairs. It has a smell of musty cigarette smoke and a sharp tinge to the nose of aged alcohol. My sister, cousins and I always played hide and seek or we would just chase each other through the house (which means running through my Uncle's cave). Once we got home from our visit, all of our stuff was engulfed with this smoky,homeless man, alcoholic smell. It's a wonder why my parents never thought we were the ones smoking...

- Kiana Thiesfeld