I’ve been talking about leaving since I arrived.

I’ve said this town has grown on me, sort of like a fungus. The slow, steady extension of hyphae into my body has become systemic.

I bought the house as an investment; the market crashed.

I made the house mine, tearing out walls, cabinets, and floors, replacing windows.

I recreated the space to my own ideal of efficiency and calm.

I can do this again in another place.

Home is a fluid thing.

I flow on.