BabblingBrook
Virgin
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2006
- Posts
- 24
Going Home Again (OPEN TO ALL)
(OCC: OPEN TO ALL- small town soap)
IN:
St. Lawrence, Pennsylvania, spread out at the base of the hill. Joseph Winters leaned back against the hood of his beat-up mustang, staring down at his past. It might also be his future. He had stopped his car at the top of the hill to get a good look at the town that had birthed him, raised him, loved him and eventually sent him out into the world. The wind was picking up, pulling his long, dark hair back like a rippling banner, but he didn't even notice. He was lost in his memories.
The rolling Pennsylvania hills were still covered in green and seemed to go on forever. How anyone could live on the flat prairies or in a man-made metal and glass canyon was beyond Joseph. The hills spoke to him of days spent with his brothers and father, hiking, camping and hunting. The hills spoke of nights spent in clearing around campfires, trying to scare the crap out of each other.
The town itself had grown. There was a new three story hotel in the center of town. His mother had written him about in a few months before. She said it was part of some chain. She hated the chains. Wal-Mart and the rest of their kind were slowly destroying the small town. Soon there would be nothing left to the country but strip malls and T.G.I. Fridays, interspersed with condominiums and gas stations.
There were a few new housing developments. He could see the rows of identical, tan housing units stretched out two ugly clubs at the South end of town. One had been built on the sit of a pig farm. The farmer had realized that he could spend the rest of his life scrapping by and raising pigs, or sell his land and go live in Florida. Joseph had known that farmer. He had seemed like salt of the Earth, but the modern world was causing the salt to loss its saltiness.
First Methodist Church of St. Lawrence was still standing, despite having almost burnt down a few years before. He had actually seen that on the news. He had been working out of Harrisburg for a spell and caught snatches of the news from home. The community had rallied 'round the church and helped rebuild it. Joseph was a bit uncomfortable in the church and unsure how he felt about God, but he knew how much it meant to his mother. She had been heart-broken at the tragedy.
He had always had the lean, lanky look of his mother. He was darker than her though. Her thin, pale attractiveness had manifested in her son as something darker and more hispanic. She had never really told him about his father, so he wasn't sure what that something was. It still bugged him at times, but he had never stood up to her and tried to force her to tell him. The most she said was that it had been a terrible mistake, but that God had been gratious to her and given her a blessing out of the whole mess.
The sun was just rising above the hills on the opposite side of the long valley. Because St. Lawrence was tucked into a valley, the sun always arrived a bit later than it should. Joseph had never gotten used to the flat plains of Illinois, where the sun never seemed to go down. He was more comfortable with the long shadows of his home. They added character to the scenery.
Joseph felt nostalgic for his home, but he knew it wouldn't be the same. Even though the family homestead would be there, and his mother would be there with her hope arms, and even his old dog Chip, someone would be missing. It was the someone he wished he had arrived in time to see; the someone who had asked for him as she lay dying. He sighed and forced himself to return to the car. The sooner he arrived and said his goodbyes, the sooner he could move on and try to forget.
The whole family would be there of course, stretching his mother's old gray victorian to her limits. He knew only too well that he would be religated to the basement with Cousin Eddie and Uncle Roger. It had always been the way. Aunt Flo and Uncle Seth would take over his mother's room. It was only right. They were the leaders of the extended family and always were given the best quarters. His poor mother would probably end up on a couch or in bed with the twins. How she would be able to get any sleep between her seven year old gransons he didn't know, but she never seemed to mind. And his sister. She would be there too, of course. It had been too long and not long enough.
(OCC: OPEN TO ALL- small town soap)
IN:
St. Lawrence, Pennsylvania, spread out at the base of the hill. Joseph Winters leaned back against the hood of his beat-up mustang, staring down at his past. It might also be his future. He had stopped his car at the top of the hill to get a good look at the town that had birthed him, raised him, loved him and eventually sent him out into the world. The wind was picking up, pulling his long, dark hair back like a rippling banner, but he didn't even notice. He was lost in his memories.
The rolling Pennsylvania hills were still covered in green and seemed to go on forever. How anyone could live on the flat prairies or in a man-made metal and glass canyon was beyond Joseph. The hills spoke to him of days spent with his brothers and father, hiking, camping and hunting. The hills spoke of nights spent in clearing around campfires, trying to scare the crap out of each other.
The town itself had grown. There was a new three story hotel in the center of town. His mother had written him about in a few months before. She said it was part of some chain. She hated the chains. Wal-Mart and the rest of their kind were slowly destroying the small town. Soon there would be nothing left to the country but strip malls and T.G.I. Fridays, interspersed with condominiums and gas stations.
There were a few new housing developments. He could see the rows of identical, tan housing units stretched out two ugly clubs at the South end of town. One had been built on the sit of a pig farm. The farmer had realized that he could spend the rest of his life scrapping by and raising pigs, or sell his land and go live in Florida. Joseph had known that farmer. He had seemed like salt of the Earth, but the modern world was causing the salt to loss its saltiness.
First Methodist Church of St. Lawrence was still standing, despite having almost burnt down a few years before. He had actually seen that on the news. He had been working out of Harrisburg for a spell and caught snatches of the news from home. The community had rallied 'round the church and helped rebuild it. Joseph was a bit uncomfortable in the church and unsure how he felt about God, but he knew how much it meant to his mother. She had been heart-broken at the tragedy.
He had always had the lean, lanky look of his mother. He was darker than her though. Her thin, pale attractiveness had manifested in her son as something darker and more hispanic. She had never really told him about his father, so he wasn't sure what that something was. It still bugged him at times, but he had never stood up to her and tried to force her to tell him. The most she said was that it had been a terrible mistake, but that God had been gratious to her and given her a blessing out of the whole mess.
The sun was just rising above the hills on the opposite side of the long valley. Because St. Lawrence was tucked into a valley, the sun always arrived a bit later than it should. Joseph had never gotten used to the flat plains of Illinois, where the sun never seemed to go down. He was more comfortable with the long shadows of his home. They added character to the scenery.
Joseph felt nostalgic for his home, but he knew it wouldn't be the same. Even though the family homestead would be there, and his mother would be there with her hope arms, and even his old dog Chip, someone would be missing. It was the someone he wished he had arrived in time to see; the someone who had asked for him as she lay dying. He sighed and forced himself to return to the car. The sooner he arrived and said his goodbyes, the sooner he could move on and try to forget.
The whole family would be there of course, stretching his mother's old gray victorian to her limits. He knew only too well that he would be religated to the basement with Cousin Eddie and Uncle Roger. It had always been the way. Aunt Flo and Uncle Seth would take over his mother's room. It was only right. They were the leaders of the extended family and always were given the best quarters. His poor mother would probably end up on a couch or in bed with the twins. How she would be able to get any sleep between her seven year old gransons he didn't know, but she never seemed to mind. And his sister. She would be there too, of course. It had been too long and not long enough.
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