A Pocket Archive 2 (1)

Life is strange.

I pulled into a space between a rusty, beat up Silverado and a silver Oulander PHEV, my collection of keychains jangling together as I slid my SUV into park. A pink sliver of a moon glimmered over the apartments' rooftops, half hidden between a blush of clouds, its edges hazy and soft from all the smoke and humidity in the air- the very picture of serenity.

I still didn't have the right words to describe it here, primarily because I never had time to explore anywhere in depth, but from the little I'd seen, it was definitely an improvement to our old surroundings. The streets were wide and the traffic lazy, and everything somehow felt smaller than it reallty was. It also struck me that it was the first place I'd noticed kids walking around or riding bicycles, both solo and in pacts. Despite the little town's proximity to a major city, it felt safe. Cicadas droned from the trees next to the railroad tracks, but otherwise, everything was quiet. Peaceful.