Small Town in North West Washington State Gothic
You shop at a small drugstore. No one talks, no one is smiling. The cashier stares at you. A baby is crying.
You go across the street to another store. The lights are extremely bright. Someone gives you a hug and offers you a coupon. Three people in the store strike up a conversation with you about organic produce.
You leave the state/country and someone asks you where you’re from. Silent tears drip down your face as you whisper “Seattle.” You’re not from Seattle. Nobody knows the name of your town or how to pronounce it correctly.
You get lost and find yourself caught up a snow storm. You drive around a bit and find yourself at the beach. You drive around even more and you’re in the desert. You have no idea where you are.
You see a church. You see another church. You see another church. You are surround by churches.
The street fair consists of three bouncy houses, a booth selling leather and live music from a band that nobody’s heard of.
Cows.
Everyone calls themselves a redneck. Confederate flags are an accessory. You want to throw a rock at someone.
A group of boys are playing with a switch blade. You see a little girl holding a small, pink knife. Her dog is also holding a knife. Everyone has a knife.
Everything smells of weed and gun smoke.
You haven’t seen blue sky in ages. Gray/white clouds have filtered out the sun for three years. You still manage to get a sunburn.
