June 10, 2013 by Tiffany A. Robbins
The day couldn’t be more pleasant as I sit here on the stoop of my high school where I first began to figure out who I wanted to be.
The breeze is cool, the birds are chirping, and my dog is acting like a fool because a bunny ran in front of us.
It may yet rain, but aside from fear of my tablet or notebook getting wet, I can’t think of any reason I wouldn’t want it to rain on a day like this.
I’m not feeling quite as nostalgic as I guess I had hoped to be. I’m a little sad that the bushes my friends used to smoke behind are gone.
Apparently, the new principal is a little wiser than the old one. I worry that some shy, searching young person may miss out on my own experiences, but kids are resilient. I’m sure they have found anew place to hide from the prying eyes of authority.
I don’t miss the place very much, though I hardly ever visit it. There is a melancholy in the air, but that may just be because school is out, and it is Sunday morning so everyone is at church. Yes there are still places where the town gets all twilight-zonie Sunday mornings. It might be a good setting for a horror story should I ever get the balls to write one.
I’m going to walk back to the homestead now. Mom and Granny are probably rolling out of bed and wondering where I ran off to.