Where the streets have no names, because they are parking lots

This is weird to admit, but I miss St. Cloud.  The nonsensical streets, the strip-mall personality, the “why would you walk?” mentality, the plethora of chain restaurants that were always, always busy because no one ever cooks in Cloudtown…and the superheroes.  I long for Superman like Michael longs for Rojo Caliente.  I always knew where I was, and where I was going, and (most importantly) how to get between the two.  Well, maybe not always (one of my first life lessons from St. Cloud: never ask directions to Wal-Mart from someone working at K-Mart).

Alright, I know St. Cloud is basically the dirtmall of cities.  It is Ann, and I am George-Michael, and you are Michael: her?  Most of all, I know I’ll like my new city eventually — correction, I do like it; I just haven’t figured out how to make it home.  I miss feeling at home.

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