I hopped on the Greyhound and headed home, it would be the first time I saw my hometown in 14 years.
I didn’t talk to anyone on the bus for that 5 hour trip. I stayed to myself and stared out the window, thinking, wondering what in the fuck had kept me away for so long.
Life’s like that I guess, shit happens, time passes, one day we wake up and we’re a lot older and hopefully wiser, the years have passed and though we think we’re the same, we’re not.
I fell asleep and I dreamed, I dreamed of lazy summer afternoons, summer holidays away from the prison they call school, being free.
I awoke realizing that I’d got my wish, no regrets.
I looked out the window at the familiar landscape and buildings as we pulled into town.
The bus pulled into the small depot and I got off, I was the only one getting off in this small town.
It was late afternoon.
I grabbed my duffel bag from the driver. I sat on the bench on the sidewalk and watched the bus pull away and head down the street, back to the highway.
I lit a cigarette and looked around, nobody in sight, just the gold leaves of autumn blanketing the ground around me.
The town looked smaller than I remembered.
I sat there a long time before I called a cab to take me to my mothers.