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Welcome home, Mae

And so I packed up my bags and left, not turning to look back. Didn't take much with me. Didn't want anything to do with my past. Just a few documents, clothes and some cash to survive. And one photograph in the heart-shaped silver pendant that hung around my neck. I left without saying goodbye. Not that there were any to give.

So I took the first flight out and left the town I'd always known. Where I had been my whole life. The only place I knew for sure. I moved to a new city. A big city. Where I could get lost in the sea of faces that walk it every single day. The thing about cities is that they're so full of life yet they lack life. They house people and families but they don't house a community. People say that the city is shallow. Materialistic and oblivious of reality. That cities lack a story. They lack character and depth of spirit.

But they don't. Cities simply hide stories well. Better than any town ever could.
Cities are full of stories. There's one in every corner, wearing a mask of ignorance so that it can skip the introductions and move on to a new oblivious kind of reality. Like one I seek. A new beginning. Where no story hangs over my head. A new truth.

I clutch the pendant around my neck and whisper, "Welcome home, Mae"

Wherever you are, it read.


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