The Stillness of Home

How do you return home when time has forgotten you?

The bus pulls in and yet another drunken vagabond descends. The Muskogee sun beats down on a stranger in a familiar land. Where do you go when everyone has written your eulogy? Home has never felt so distant, yet close to the heart as it did on 5/17/1975.

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Heh, those boys were a lot nicer when you were sheriff. Surprised to see you back here though, I thought your wife, I mean, ex wife, would have had to go and deal with that news.

— Tracey Adams