Moving On

It was a joyful experiment, but Middling was fast becoming a ghost town — full of the ghosts of hopes and dreams.

Photo by Atul Pandey on Unsplash

I looked back, over my shoulder, at the town of Middling. You see things differently: The shabby soot on the train station’s siding. The sagging roof over the bar. Cracks in the pavement. The town’s Poet Laureate, sleeping it off in an alley.