When I stay in my grandparent's town, I am really staying in a firefly kind of town. It is where nothing is brand new without feeling out of place, where the air isn't cloudy and your mind can breathe and run and enjoy itself. It is bicycles at night down the Main Street drag where the streetlights act like angels. You can look up after the sun goes down and see the stars without the whole world spinning, and when the sun comes up the doors to the shops are always swung open just a bit, like the shop owners' faces cracking a genial, welcoming grin. It is that lit-up Dairy Queen sign that looks somewhat different from year to year, but the retired seniors cannot tell (their eyes don't let them see the differences, anyways).
There is something about their small town that I cannot seem to escape- something in their eyes that tells me that they are not kept busy thinking life should be simpler, or that they need to achieve something greater than what they are in their souls. No; this small town is comfortable, it is lemonade, and it will forever try to stay that way.