Small prelude might guide to a story-width more sense. Even though i, like My homecity, always thrives better as a mystery… letme unveil the Avenues lined with strip-shops and this flat commercial area ‘Fox-ontherun’ ruins between the subcity main intersections and subversive shopping centre multi-signs, beneath all the wire sags we were born into and grew towards—entered a shattering of lots of webbings making a completely weird dream too spiritual. Its a hardly a chance to be a household thing getting raised in this Subcity, unlike suburbia yet developed the same as quaint places along twilane drives throuh the middle of nowheres, all the main roads and dense residences dispersed off in the sidestreets but overlap those places into a knot of a county. And not the smooth creamy curbs that you expect flowing up into frontyards and the fresh pavement winding court circles and thoroughfares through mmmultitudes of subvisions have been built instantly; but riddled with cracks and potholes and slivers of litter and inner city stretches quite lame embracing cultural whatnots seemingly rotting before they finished being constructed; overwhelming wildlife to photo are squirrels and pets raking more potholes in backyards and this poor turtle who seems to have a busted footnext to charred homes boarded up. Yet its not all filth and railroads and blight and dehydrated shors, and industry, grain elevators and pawn shops keen eyes are trained to experienced a local catch at the right angles movie-like detail missed until you watched it several times. and we do. we consume media like its alive, taking several looks before disconnecting from its heart and off the radio search for hits already rippled across the states like they something brand new to the world only to find we simply need to catch up.
But the spires spike Holy Toledo, industrial railways split through the east side and slithers of eway with construction, building our roads for those traveiling, swiftly sweeping through from Cleveland Pennsylvania New York maybe on their way to main cities like Detroit and Chicago, Indianapolis and the westbound highway signs.. our backroads are shortcuts across a town sure full of drunkards and quaint little bars wedged in the surround. and there is a dumb shroud of naive stargazing that seems numb wasted on ever being famous and an icon to the world or even president of anything… but gatherings in these parking lots evrrywhere, single story plateau of just hanging out or grouping up to watch a fight, circling of vehicles, a sense of always driving dream dream dreams around the city wheels.. slip into tightly decorated side roads and homes with converted garages into bedrooms or living rooms, watching Thee Big Game on a 300 pound tube moved to the garage after buying a flat screen and only kept cuz its too damn heavy to get rid of. the green strip reflects bar neons or beer emblems someone got off ebay….hanging from joists. Residential contractors crowd the lanes with work vehicles, vans, trucks suited up with breaks, ladders, air compressors, shingles or maybe pipes strapped to racks standing out of the beds. Its all, how could i say, what junk one treasured passed onto another..becoming brand new again. ITs an old town of towns connected to the size of small city of Rudy-esque hearts revitalizing those that have seen it all and are so bored with the everything. it is exactly like showing someone unfortunate or deprived around your castle, mansion, mountains and clear waters.. Our eyes will widen and amply cause outsiders to re-appreicate the bonus they experience anymore as a backdrop to a setting reaching for something bigger and better. Oh WE specially liken to junkyard homes fully in the middle of neighborhoods. the unnecessary is such a beauty tho… its such the mall town now vacant with places big companies like vulture in the atmosphere and dropped a pile of shit in so the flies chewed up then it just washed away in the rains while they closed a business from a big city skyscraper lifetimes away, luxury.. left their place in our environment. Cuz it truly is the link in the midwest that nobody knows of or cares about cuz its just a practice place. develop and sharpen your professional skills before moving onto larger prospects and much more intense occupations. its a rowdy place. there’s a grit that echoes the industrious clouds that can only be recognized and appreciated if one spends some time here and lives here. but dont drink the water. Nah, Dive head first into the murky lake without hesitating. its triumphant. and its a grin with bruised teeeths at those looking at us like we crazy to live in such a boring filthy place certainly on the verge of becoming the next FLint crisis.. if you get up high enough there’s a mass of city from bowling green to north edges of Detroit i seen this one time i got in a plane and swept the shifting into San Diego.. if you come here you might find it a breath of fresh air from other places. if you came from here, you might find that every breath outside of this place is just a spec more amazing and magical from your point of view than those not from here, like a stranger in a strange land the world has its luster and ahhh we grok at nothing outsiders have taken for granted. its in deprivation we revel, something that seems to be expected anymore or entitled… and around here, you still earn your halo and are not born with it. so a little attention and praise and -bam! We instantly on the moon.
Which brings me to this weeks challenge… at https://carrotranch.com/2016/04/27/april-27-flash-fiction-challenge/ see link for info… invoked by special guest prompt http://annegoodwin.weebly.com/ [trying to remember all and give credit where it’s do] …themed ‘show someone around’. Yet i been telling around here. Telling of things that all reminds that i intended on telling. The sheer excitement of my life is a reflection of releasing it to the world like my favorite ever band intends, coming out with a new album very very soon.. So what better way to express my excitement, intertwine it all and about the things that lift me above: this awful place, just enough lyrics and sounds ‘showing me around the world’, and the everyday realization of how lucky i am to be where they both converge and we gets to a second story level.. Glass is truly a gift. And sometimes -well check that, – mostly, its not the mighty stories that interest me, as that seems to be all the intentions within wirting; no, its the art of it all (cuz i have seen so little).. the visions and the connections, then understanding that takes place inside. No one outside of this place really gets intrigued to discover or explore. So, I creates the mystery that expands all around like a reflection; and this flash simply attempts to provide a mirror, that realm where ‘they’ say it is whatever it is to you.
To me, it is and will always be,
Thanks for raging. I find it nearr difficult to read myself and i believe i shows in my work. The magnificence will come along.
Oh! Almost forgot… living so close to and damn near on the ohio michigan border we cross over it like its not completely there and the only awareness might be of the divide like the weather is snow in one country block and summer in the city blocks..
Realeasing joo-lie first by Elliott Lyngreen
Tom’s blood drips from his forearm under pinch-bug parking lots’ hum exhausting.
Travis and Mark bring Algebra One stuck at full volume into the centre.
“Whhaat-happen dude?” sweeping off phenomenal noise up to rides.
Sternly, “gave skeebs what they wanted.”
Surreal intentions fade. Tom solidly perfects Mark squinting to that ooze; fast forwarding some driving through knee-high corn and flurries streaking lightspeed.
“…crossed the border seven times!” seethed about braiding Stateline Fields with peeled warmspells, “you-guys Kmart shortcut?.. heard ya first!”
“Can’t believe it’s snowing over there?” Travis’ nerve-tips split ends.