-It’s raining again. ‘It’s good for the crops’ you say. Everyone nods. Your neighbor’s cat is missing again, it never came back from the fields. ‘It’s good for the crops.’
-You are stuck behind a tractor again. 'It’s not a tractor, it’s a combine,’ someone says. You don’t know who, but you think it’s best not to question it. You don’t want to be stuck for too long.
-Someone calls to you from the corn field. They have a sing-song voice that’s tipped in shattered glass. When they ask you to come with them, you politely refuse. They tell you not to trust the voices in the woods, and you resolve next time to ask your mom for a ride.
-You remember as a girl waking up to the whistle of the 2 am train. A county song promises the chance to follow and never look back. You want to, but you’ve never been able to find the tracks.
-It’s fall, and fall means football. It’s a language you were never taught, but everyone knows. Someone asks you if you’re going to the game on Friday. There is always a game on Friday. You say you’ll catch the next one, but you’re already there.
-Everyone knows not to swim in the reservoirs. The old timers wink and say there’s something ancient in the depths. You always though they were joking, but the gleam in their eyes matches the gleam off the water, and you can’t be sure. Maybe they’re older than you think.
-There’s a statue in the cemetery. It’s old, so old, and you can’t quite tell what it used to be. No moss or ivy grows on the stone. You always watch it in the corner of your eye, you don’t want it to catch you off guard.
-The girl behind the counter tells you to try the pie. You don’t remember if you walked into the diner or the grocery. It doesn’t matter, she would still smile at you in whatever store you wandered into. She knows you name and asks about your mother. Her name tag is smudged, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever you called her would be wrong. Try the cherry, it’s in season.
-No one knows who spray painted the water tower so many years ago, and no one can agree on what it says. Whenever you look at it, it’s changed. No one remembers what it felt like before, but we know it’s different. The only thing we can agree on is that it feels like a warning.
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