My Town

Ah Stockton, I do despise my little town. However, I'm gonna write about the small pleasures and great bits of it. Just this once.

The clock ticks in the town center. Each tick and each tock describing the way of how time does go by here, not slowly, but not the greatest speed either. As the winds blow the gentle leaves off the tough and oak trees everything comes to ease. The birds caw and as soon as bread is thrown to the ground they come to mute and begin their pursuit on the wheat items laying on the concrete slabs. People wander the streets in crowds looking at one another smiling and laughing over the littlest things, about how the weather can suddenly change from the deep dark blanket of grey to a blissful sunshine. There's another thing, I do not love the ray of light in this town. I prefer the beautiful shower of rain and watching things bounce off things, the rain drops bouncing off shop stalls, sliding down the plastic like 4 year old children in a park. The way each mini waterfall seems to dance on small objects and split into multiple droplets as soon as they hit an object. Apart from the rain another great thing is the stunning, breath taking, deep river which flows on a constant, each item inside it having a story behind it, whether if its a cigarette or just a plain pair of sunglasses dropped by accident. Everything has a story in that river. Hell a lot of things have own separate stories here. It's Stockton.

Jord West