As Time Goes By

I'm driving in my car, what was once my car, now belongs to my parents, 

through the town I grew up in.  

To visit my grandparents, by the park I smoked my first cigarette in.

Windows are down and a sense of nostalgia fills the interior of the '98 Dodge Neon.

I suddenly feel ridiculously young, and simultaneously old.

Past the high school, past the car wash, past Gitcho's Gas,

who's slogan is "Gitcho Gas at Gitcho's."

Kit Gitcho is the owner and he lived 2 doors down from me growing up.

He was a dog killer, a white man with a tight afro.

The trees are gorgeous!  People here probably don't think twice about them.

Out of town.

To the mall.  The mall I once worked in.

Dillards and 5-7-9 to be exact.

The smell of each mall is strikingly similar and yet distinctively different.

I feel incredibly cool and simultaneously completely out of sorts.

At least there's a Starbucks there.

Who doesn't feel cool when they're holding a Starbucks cup?

Check the time.

Check in with the folks.

Promise to be home by 5:30

because that's when dinner will be ready.

It would be disrespectful not to.

Driving back.

To a house.

Where, after dinner,

I have

nothing

to 

do.

That's when I realize how long it's been,

since I've lived here.