I can’t wait until I’m out of here for good.

I took a little walk around my hometown today. Not by choice, mind you, but the Cruiser decided it was tired and wouldn’t start.

While I was in Brisbane, I resented all the hills I had to walk up and down. I’m out of shape and I know it, but I was embarrassed, showing up at Es’s house overheated and sweating, falling behind walking around the city. I thought, “Home might have its many, many shortcomings, but at least it’s flat.”
Now that I’m back home, the pros and cons of this dinky little town keep floating to the front of my mind, and on my walk back home today, I realised I was bored. What’s the point of a walk when you aren’t challenged by hills now and then? The exercise is hardly worth it when there’s nothing to look at, and believe me, there is nothing to look at here. This town isn’t pretty by a long shot, and all across it, there’s this awful sense of sameness everywhere you look. There’s nothing taller than two stories, as a general rule. The only major exception is the hospital, which I’d rather not be reminded of after Mother’s incarceration. The houses all look the same–same height, same size, all very obviously built around the 1970’s. The more ghetto parts of town have gotten increasingly scary over the last several years.

Most people have very fond memories of the place where they grew up. Not me. What would I show Es if she came to visit me here? Look, here’s my high school, exciting. Here’s what used to be my great-grandparents’ house, the only structure in town with any real sense of family for me, and it now belongs to some guy who’s ripped its guts out. Here are the apartments I hated, here’s the ones where my grandmother died. Here’s our tiny downtown area, full of wildly historic… community churches….

My hometown means so little to me. My only ties here now are two family members, one of whom wants out as badly as I do. Mother and I are poised to run as soon as we get the chance. With Nanny so sick, this town has literally become what its been trying to for years: A waiting room for death.

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