Nic Narrates

Trudging down the platform, it suddenly registered. Train number…now boarding…with intermediate stops in…. Town after town of familiarity and then…home.

I wondered why now, why after so many, why was it this day I heard it spoken? Was it to be some kind of gift, a bit of coincidental comfort? Something to wrap myself in as I pushed through the nameless crowds? Or had I simply willed it into recognition; a jolt to shake me from this daze? Wake up, go to work, come home, eat, watch TV, fall asleep. Repeat.

Home.

I hated living there, loathed its exposure. Small towns are like that. Homogeneous. Claustrophobic. Obsolete. When I finally left for college, I vowed never to move back unless I had to. Unless I failed. I’d have rather risked homelessness than succumb.

And yet, there it was mere platforms away. A slap of nostalgia, a reckoning of how far I’ve come, how much a part of me it remains.

This city is my home now, just as I wanted it to be; its anonymity, my comfort. And my hometown still holds a pang.

Filed under: in transit, must be a sign, public transportation by Nic