Small Town Girl

I had two funerals in three days this week.  I found myself in my husband’s home town. There was no smog and I could see the stars.  I awoke to the sound of birds, cows, and sheep.  Cotton floated through the air.  I wore shorts, low pigtails, and didn’t have a stitch of makeup on my face.  I sat on the front porch and drank a Coke.  I ran barefoot through the grass after my children.

I do well in the city.  I swim through the streets like all of the other city fish.  But that isn’t how I grew up.  It isn’t who I really am.  Inside of my core, I will always be a small town girl.  I wave at strangers and never seem to eat a meal alone.  Rural life shows up in my writing.  It shows up in my attitude, and I’m utterly content with it.  It wasn’t always this way, but I’ve grown.

4 Comments on “Small Town Girl”

  1. Mercedes, you’re speaking my language. I can’t run away from my small town roots no matter how hard I try. After years of wind sprints, I embrace them.

  2. I’m writing an urban fantasy and already regretting not letting my poor main character have a more comfortable, rural life. At least she’s got a garden.

    I love living in a small town. I miss some of the convenience of city life, but not enough to go back to it willingly.

  3. I lived in the city for eight years. I loved it. My small town life now, feels right with my family. I enjoy it. 😀

    sorry about the funerals.

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