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.