smoked salmon sand do of my beer.

    “toion of to around ten tly t farming  our young people o escape to tes  to remain are doing t for our town.”

    Sinued to stare into t  migell ture. So be staring directly at me. taking anotor, I pulled tab and took a big drink.

    town.

    I didn’t rouble imagining oiny train station ops only eigimes a day. A small space er in tation’s ing room. A small sterile circular area for buses to pick up people. A guide map of toers are nearly illegible. A bed of marigolds and a roain asrees. A mangy ired of living. An advertisement for scively big but useless main street. A -ad poster for tory department store selling a variety of miscellaneous stuff. One small travel agency. A farmer’s co-op, a forestry center and an animal os solitary gray smokestack sticking up into turning left before tersection, ty s at ion. Yes, definitely a small boring to ing copy:

    “e ributing medication for disinfecting serested, please complete t tel room I suddenly experienced a tangible connection act ence.  t doesn’t fit very  feel comfortable. My feet are bound by rope. I consider cutting tc blade, but if I do so, urn? t makes me uneasy. o cut too mucion. t’s all I could t. I slip back underneaty. My town, her sheep.

    No o be disinfected by t neoo, I need to get my ser. I o gatanks  t er all er is just around t’s my toinued on tV. “It’s not so interesting, but it’s my  a c us. e’ll do wever we can for you.”

    And just like t sV scr