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When I arrived in this curious corner of the south, it didn't figure to be a move that stuck. There was a certain uneasiness to this place, as if it mattered many years ago but was unlikely to ever matter again. Evidence of the fall were clear enough ... darkened, lonely buildings left to wither; sidewalks speckled with chicken bones and broken glass; and only the occasional pedestrian, his head down, moving through with purpose and speed. This was not so much a neighborhood as a place where people lived until they no longer did.

And yet I am still here. Every so often I reconsider my options. I'll check out a rental in a neighborhood that has a name or some buzz or maybe just a coffee shop. But there is something keeping me here, and while I don't really know what that thing is, it doesn't much matter. I'll live here until I no longer do.

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January 2014