For Sale

I don't know why it happened this morning, but I woke up nostalgic. There was nothing particularly remarkable that I can attribute to causing it. But, it was a good feeling.... like everything was right in the world. I smiled.

Even though it had been more than a year, it seemed so natural to resume my old routine... It was very early, even by the old military standards. I rolled out of bed and walked to the open window. The breeze coming through the screen was fresh. Still lost in a memory, I watched the sun rise for a minute.

I could hear the words echoing off the now silent walls. Hurry up, we can't waste the day. The familiar ritual seemed so natural, a frenzy of action. Dusting, cleaning, washing... all before the neighborhood even started to rise. The smells of oil soap and wood polish permeating the air.

Spotless.

Still lost in the fog of my reminiscence, I moved outside to wash the truck. Different from the ones in my nostaglia, but I washed the new truck with the same care and attention to detail as the previous ones.

As the truck got scrubbed inside and out, I could hear the metallic jingle of a dog collar behind me. I looked around expectantly, anticipating seeing her golden face smiling at me.

She wasn't there, of course. It was just a passerby with a poodle on the other side of the street.

Now, fully immersed in thoughts of long ago, I showered quickly. As if on queue, my stomach rumbled as I pulled on a shirt and shorts. I absently jumped in the truck and hardly noticed the passing streets on the short drive to the Diner.

As I walked through the door, I was greeted by familiar smells of breakfast. It wasn't quite the same, but I hardly noticed as I completed the familiar route to my table. I was absently disappointed to see new faces behind the counter.

A server that I knew stopped at my table to ask if I was ordering my "usual pancakes". Although I knew who she confused me for, I smiled politely at her and shook my head no.

Not today. I never ordered pancakes.

Breakfast arrived burned, the coffee was cold, and the waitress seemed to have forgotten me. I ate slowly. My nostalgia seemed to be developing some hairline cracks. It seemed... peculiar.

As I waited unendingly for the check, an uneasy feeling crept into my tummy. It might have been the not-quite-right eggs. Maybe not. I looked closer at my surroundings. The walls were painted a different color, the customers unrecognizable, the smell in the air was far greasier than I remembered.

It was getting remarkably harder to hold on to the memories that I had been enjoying just a few minutes previously. I felt them dissolving around me as the harsh reality crept in. Another flutter in my stomach made up my mind.

I wanted to see it.

Standing only two blocks away, it embodied the core of my growing melancholy. Over the years, I spent more time there than any place else. So much happened there....

I paid for my breakfast, tipped the waitress minimally for her dismal service and jumped in my truck. I was focused on one thing only, that I had to see it. I drove the two blocks carefully. I certainly didn't want any attention.

As I rounded the corner, it was immediately visible. I approached slowly, fighting off nausea. I wasn't so sure anymore that I should be there. My mind screamed at me to turn around but my hands stayed steady on the wheel. I saw it.

It looked vacant and run down. There was a sign firmly planted in the center of the lawn...

For Sale

The raw emotion was like electricity. The nostalgia was gone, replaced by a whole host of other emotions. Anger. Hurt. Relief. It will be gone, and presumably soon.

Sold to the highest bidder. Its contents reduced to mere curious salvage. And like the Diner, it will only be a shell of what it was in the past. Walls painted over, the counters replaced and new unfamiliar faces inside.

Bags of trash were already stacked up haphazardly and waiting to be taken away. I felt wounded; like I, too, had been placed on the corner, forgotten and meaningless. I pulled away from the curb and headed east into the morning sun, thoughts swirling through my mind.

Minutes later, I found myself in parked in my own driveway. My thoughts had been replaced by ethereal calm and on the day ahead of me. I left my memories of that different time on the curb of that old place with the other thoughtlessly discarded debris.

I am sure someone with a fresh perspective will buy it and whitewash over the traces of its previous existance. I hope they do.

As for me, I will not look back.