by joetwo

It had changed, changed utterly when I went to visit the home of my childhood. Gone were the clear blue skies and the clean air of my youth. It was constantly overcast and instead of freshness all I could smell was the musty stench of decay, of a lack of life, of a town dying.

I was disheartened as I went back, past the welcome sign that was close to falling over in its state of disrepair, past the empty houses, and past the pot-holed streets. I had come there to try to find someone, something I could relate to.

I left as alone as ever.

Sign to Nowhere

Written for the Grammar Ghoul Press Challenge number 1.