It had taken up until this very moment to realise that returning had not been a decision of your own desing. you had left for a reason. A reason that at the time had seemed as important as any other moment in your life. now seemed to disapate from your mind like fog over a river in october. Youve always been a nostalgic person. To many this made you more endeering and relatable. for you it always felt like a character flaw. Showing emotion created a weaker image of a person and no emotion tended to hit you harder than the nostalgia for the life you once lived. It became apparent that your 6 hour journey aboard a bus whose entire exterior projected a near perfect image of the midwest. The town you were born in had always felt like a place frozen in time. As the bus rounded the last turn on its journey you began to feel a certain familiarity. It was almost as if the fact that as a kid you had been driven through this turn a near uncoutable amount of time. Had burned an image of the curvatur of this road. A memory of a feeling and not an image. As the town began growing in front of you as you approached you noticed a sign that you could have described down to the last chipped piece of red paint. JEFF GOLDBLUM TOWN it read. reading that name felt weirdly like a breath of fresh air in your mind. "im home" you wispered to no one in perticular. Getting your bags from the drop off had been fairly easy as the bus had been all but empty. Walking through the main strech of JEFF GOLDBLUM ST you were hit with a wave of emotions you felt you had left behind. The smell in the air was immediately recognisable and distinct. JEFF GOLDBLUM BAKERY was a staple of your childhood. you remember the days you would spend with you friends sitting on the docks eating JEFF GOLDBLUM CINNAMON ROLLS. I was home

Aspiring game dev, feminist living in canadia

♥♥♥♥ becky