"Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy"
professions of love and libel on bathroom stalls
trumpet flowers
honeysuckles smell sweeter in humid, still, 86-degree weather
no such thing as energy bars
butterflies
lightning bugs
plastic shoes with holes in them like Swiss cheese
the beautiful ones standing out like stars
cigarettes for sale behind the counter at the grocery store
cigarettes in everyone's hands
the dirty smell of cigarette smoke mixed with the oil evaporating from funnel cakes mixed with the smell of the pavement and beneath it all, the wet, sticky breath of the trees
does the sign on my door always read "open" or does my mom switch it every time I come to town?
far more cats than dogs
peeling paint and random patches of ground where buildings once stood
Mr. Potato Head Transformers
the scary signs in the alley (the latest: "Home Confinement Office in back of building")
people walk slower and drive faster
pepperoni rolls (but shrinkwrapped in plastic)
the last place on earth where you can walk down the street and not pass anyone talking on a cell phone
being thinner than almost everyone I see over age twenty
being in a crowd and still having fifteen feet of elbow room
those gorgeous mountains, ridges beyond ridges stretching endlessly into the horizon
rest stops
Chick-fil-A
burning your tongue so bad it hurts for days