I didn't think.
I didn't think much on coming back.
I didn't think much on coming back to all of this.
I didn't think much about how bittersweet it could be.
Alas, the time has come and I have to think about it now.
But this city knows me well. Upon returning she offered me several gifts of appreciation; mostly in the form of irreplaceable memories. She also offered up some old gifts, ones I had thrown to the wayside, ones I took to the local thrift shop when I decided to change lives. I found them scattered all along the streets, and as I drive, they flood my brain like a Mississippi rainstorm can flood a field: changing the state of its crops forever. I don't know if I like it. I guess I didn't think much about that.
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