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The White Hills Farm SLAUGHTERHOUSE - Part 3More Like This
With a good portion of the day left to my own devices, I got dressed and drove around town, revisiting all of the places that had been favorites in my childhood. Some of them were still there, and some of them had been replaced. Like the old diner, which hadn't been renovated or changed in any way since the 1950's, and the moldering second-hand book shop that stood next-door. I felt an aching hollowness inside as I remembered clambering up onto one of the bar stools, the old kind with the candy-apple red cushions and chrome sides, and leaning across the counter to order a root beer float. I would slurp it happily while reading the slightly
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