a good place to have a life, good friends, quiet times and places to remember your entire life.sometimes a little government to boot. A nice pool helps as well as a baseball field, skating rink in the winter and a good place to hike not far away.
I have lived in the town of Chadds Ford for my whole life but it isn’t really a town. There’s a highway in the middle of it. I wish towns could really be like the one in Gilmore Girls but here I am. The brochures call this a town but I don’t even know my neighbors, let alone the people in the community…but maybe that’s not so bad, because I’m growing up independent.
Out of town, that’s what his answering machine said. Gone for a few days call you back later. How could he just say that? What if this was an emergency. This is an emergency.
The town was silent as the night wore on. It was midnight, and the Daemon was coming. His long white hair flowed softly in the wind as he strode through, searching for prey. This night, however, there were only cats.
Town is amazing, bright, unfocused and whirling. Town has the gritty texture of life with all its bumps and divits and the stinging, crisp smell of indivduality. I’m going into town. Here I come.
“Town? We’re going to town?” The twin girls bounced up and down in their matching chairs.
Theo smiled as he watched the matching pigtails swing and bob in time with the curly-haired heads. He hoped he wasn’t getting too far over his head, but he’d missed his family–all of his family–and if it meant that he could spent uninterupted time with them by doing errands, then he’d take it.
Besides, it’d been years since he’d seen the twins. They were now about thirteen or fourteen and they didn’t seem to think anything of thier uncle having been gone for six years without a single explanation.
Yes. Theo thought to himself. This could be fun. They could catch up and get some things done at the same time.
“Just a minute.” The first twin popped up, yanking out her French pigtails. “I’ve got to change my outfit.”
“Outfit.” Theo looked at her in a basic t-shirt and jeans. he didn’t see anything wrong with it. “What’s wrong with what you’ve got on?”
“Town?” She repeated with a sigh of longsuffering. “You said we were going to town, right?”
“Right.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Me too.”
Theo stood in the living room and stuffed the car keys back into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d be waiting for a while.
Growing up in a small town is full of valuable life lessons, such powerful things as how to make friends with any and everyone – because they all know your parents! And things like how to identify a gossip – or an angry person – or just about anyone that you want to avoid. The microcosm of growing up in a small town really transfers to the dynamic of a large city – it just isn’t that immediately recognizable. For instance, isn’t there always the funny guy, the pretty girl, the shy type, the bully, the gossip, the self-serving middle-man, the hero, the vilian, the savior, the fence-rider? Knowing how to deal with all of these personalities will help you immensely in life – and steering clear of some will be great for your peace of mind!
If you learn to use the good things about small towns – personable people, familiarity, basic caring for each other as though you are a friend, you will bring out the best in yourself and in others – and ultimately, isn’t that what we should all be striving for? Not just for ourselves, but as a whole.
The system of a town when looked at as the microcosm that it is will invariably play out in that animal kingdom as well, it would be an interesting study amongst extinct and endangered animals – to see how their system stacks up against our own. We could learn something very important to our own survival here!
He walked through the strange town with a child-like fascination. One minute he had been in his room reading a book and the the next thing he knew he was in the same strange steam punk town he’d been reading about. This HAD to be a dream…right?
i grow up in a small town not really its more like a small city. its called des moines, ia. it is make fun of a lot in movies and on tv. i dont know why. its really not that small. iowa gets a bad rap. des moines even has a youth triathlon team. we are pretty good. called z3.
I live in a town. The town of Markham. This word rhymes with brown. The colour of most tree bark. Town; four letters. Different from city, but not too far different.
my home town is actually pretty nice. i say i hate it and i want to move but i really dont, i love it here. vacation is fun but god, going home is great. i love my home and i love my city. no matter how small or boring or whatever. sure i want the big life, but what this is my heart and home.
so i went to this town over the weekend that was fairly small compared to philadelphia and it reminded me of being at home in a small college town area. temple on the other hand is never that under populated and i love it there mainly fo that
This town, our town, is a dead town. In whatever sense you want to think of it. Sure, the obvious, the people are dead, but also the buildings, the sidewalks, every ray of sunlight, lightening shades of gray, never bringing color. Alex
It was a new day in a a different town. My car was still running and I was grateful to Old Bestsey. We had half the country to traverse before turning myself in to the devil and taking the reigns of hell for a Century.
Blocks and block of bricks and mortar assembled by the man to be taunted by the new world order. It’s so chooses who will stay and leave and for that we sound the patriotic harmony of community.
town. a word that describes this place I want to get out of, escape from. a word that should describe the feelings of connectivity and comfort. not being weighed down and afraid. by leaving this town I would leave my frightening past and the things I want to forget behind. but i cant.
We found an old map of the United States, and we made a boardgame out of it. And I don’t know how, but it’s three months later, and we ended up where your Monopoly shoe ended up landing. It’s one thing to visit a grand old city. But this place is just what we needed.
A prison in which you are raised in, hazed in, and grazed within. The foul odor of commonality you get from others you dislike for nothing more than a geologic scorn.
This town holds too much.
It holds too many stones
Too many broken homes
Too many bruised souls
Too many worn soles
This town is a collection
Of everything we are trying to escape
But this town is imprinted on us.
Forever.
Forever.
town and country. small town. not where I want to be, but he does. why? always someone to talk about. never much to actually do. where to eat. simple life. breaking rules – not so much. city life for me. or even suburb. but not a town. not a small town. please oh please.
A town. The bringing together of the bizarre. The rich, the poor, the happy, the sad and loved and the lonely. The brewer of the most unexpected relationships.
Small towns- always on top of each other the folks there. Gossiping and spreading rumors like wildfire. But it was home. It was like a slightly bigger stars hallow.
A town is filled with many people. Some strange some normal. What makes a town unlike any other town is the people that fill each one. They are the heart and soul of a town and without them the town dies out. So next time you see a town remember it’s a unique and awe filled place with millions of possibilities.
I go to town every day. See the soda fountain and Mr. Jacobs? Let’s go to the drive in movie tonight. Miss Elizabeth seems nice. It’s 1943 in a small town, it seems like life will never change and is slow. But one day, you’ll miss it dearly.
I lived in a town when I was little. It was beutiful, with full of places to go. There was a park, there was the school…an then my house. Oh how I loved my house. Big, brown and with a chimeney that send heat all over the place. I miss it so much, living in the city is not as nice as many people think.
“No, Aria, wait! Listen to me!” She tried to grab me, and I shoved her away, “No! I don’t want to hear any of this!” I stormed away and walked down the streets of downtown, I cut through an alleyway I checked to see if she was still following me, the coast was clear. I collapsed and burst into tears.
I think of the play My Town– or is it Our Town? My sister starred in this when she was in high school and I was much younger. I remember going to see the show and thinking how professional it was, how proud I was of her. I can’t really remember anything about the play aside from that :-0 Is that a good thing ?
An American utopia. Something that everyone dreams about finding, or escaping. A place where you can find your belonging, or your cage. Someday I dream of finding my own town, someplace far away that I’ve always known.
Town. This town. That town. My town. Which one is it? I live here physically. My family is here and yet I feel like this is not where I belong. My heart is elsewhere. It is where I “grew up,” not physically but mentally and emotionally and most importantly, where I felt most at ease. I might never return to that town, my town, but I will never forget how it felt to be there those short years.
I would like to move. I’ve lived here my whole life. I know everyone here. I would love to just go to a new town and start over. Meet new people who don’t know everything about me. Just start over. That would be nice.
My town is so little, so minute. Everyone knows everyone’s personal life and business. There are no secrets, there is no such thing as privacy. As soon as something happens everyone knows.
I never have lived in a town. I live in the country so I don’t know what it’s like. I used to live in a big city, but that’s different. It ‘s way bigger than a town.
In the town where we came from it was a quite place. The things we saw were of not much coincidence at all. The people that I met didn’t mean much at all or have any where to go. But one day I woke up to look out my window and wonder what is beyond the horizon. I walked out of my door and beyond my lane to the edge of town to find out.
To call it a town is really a bit of an overstatement. It’s really much more like a collection of small wooden houses, planks worn grey by the beating of the cold salty sea air. This particular collection of houses sits on a high, wide cliff, clinging to the precipice like old men, weary with life and looking into the beyond, but not quite ready to let go.
a good place to have a life, good friends, quiet times and places to remember your entire life.sometimes a little government to boot. A nice pool helps as well as a baseball field, skating rink in the winter and a good place to hike not far away.
I have lived in the town of Chadds Ford for my whole life but it isn’t really a town. There’s a highway in the middle of it. I wish towns could really be like the one in Gilmore Girls but here I am. The brochures call this a town but I don’t even know my neighbors, let alone the people in the community…but maybe that’s not so bad, because I’m growing up independent.
Out of town, that’s what his answering machine said. Gone for a few days call you back later. How could he just say that? What if this was an emergency. This is an emergency.
The town was silent as the night wore on. It was midnight, and the Daemon was coming. His long white hair flowed softly in the wind as he strode through, searching for prey. This night, however, there were only cats.
Town is amazing, bright, unfocused and whirling. Town has the gritty texture of life with all its bumps and divits and the stinging, crisp smell of indivduality. I’m going into town. Here I come.
“Town? We’re going to town?” The twin girls bounced up and down in their matching chairs.
Theo smiled as he watched the matching pigtails swing and bob in time with the curly-haired heads. He hoped he wasn’t getting too far over his head, but he’d missed his family–all of his family–and if it meant that he could spent uninterupted time with them by doing errands, then he’d take it.
Besides, it’d been years since he’d seen the twins. They were now about thirteen or fourteen and they didn’t seem to think anything of thier uncle having been gone for six years without a single explanation.
Yes. Theo thought to himself. This could be fun. They could catch up and get some things done at the same time.
“Just a minute.” The first twin popped up, yanking out her French pigtails. “I’ve got to change my outfit.”
“Outfit.” Theo looked at her in a basic t-shirt and jeans. he didn’t see anything wrong with it. “What’s wrong with what you’ve got on?”
“Town?” She repeated with a sigh of longsuffering. “You said we were going to town, right?”
“Right.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Me too.”
Theo stood in the living room and stuffed the car keys back into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d be waiting for a while.
Growing up in a small town is full of valuable life lessons, such powerful things as how to make friends with any and everyone – because they all know your parents! And things like how to identify a gossip – or an angry person – or just about anyone that you want to avoid. The microcosm of growing up in a small town really transfers to the dynamic of a large city – it just isn’t that immediately recognizable. For instance, isn’t there always the funny guy, the pretty girl, the shy type, the bully, the gossip, the self-serving middle-man, the hero, the vilian, the savior, the fence-rider? Knowing how to deal with all of these personalities will help you immensely in life – and steering clear of some will be great for your peace of mind!
If you learn to use the good things about small towns – personable people, familiarity, basic caring for each other as though you are a friend, you will bring out the best in yourself and in others – and ultimately, isn’t that what we should all be striving for? Not just for ourselves, but as a whole.
The system of a town when looked at as the microcosm that it is will invariably play out in that animal kingdom as well, it would be an interesting study amongst extinct and endangered animals – to see how their system stacks up against our own. We could learn something very important to our own survival here!
He walked through the strange town with a child-like fascination. One minute he had been in his room reading a book and the the next thing he knew he was in the same strange steam punk town he’d been reading about. This HAD to be a dream…right?
Quaint little word.
One horse town. Townie. Hometown.
You can never go back home, again.
Oh, yes you can. Absolutely can. I have. It’s sweet.
i grow up in a small town not really its more like a small city. its called des moines, ia. it is make fun of a lot in movies and on tv. i dont know why. its really not that small. iowa gets a bad rap. des moines even has a youth triathlon team. we are pretty good. called z3.
I live in a town. The town of Markham. This word rhymes with brown. The colour of most tree bark. Town; four letters. Different from city, but not too far different.
my home town is actually pretty nice. i say i hate it and i want to move but i really dont, i love it here. vacation is fun but god, going home is great. i love my home and i love my city. no matter how small or boring or whatever. sure i want the big life, but what this is my heart and home.
so i went to this town over the weekend that was fairly small compared to philadelphia and it reminded me of being at home in a small college town area. temple on the other hand is never that under populated and i love it there mainly fo that
This town, our town, is a dead town. In whatever sense you want to think of it. Sure, the obvious, the people are dead, but also the buildings, the sidewalks, every ray of sunlight, lightening shades of gray, never bringing color. Alex
It was a new day in a a different town. My car was still running and I was grateful to Old Bestsey. We had half the country to traverse before turning myself in to the devil and taking the reigns of hell for a Century.
Blocks and block of bricks and mortar assembled by the man to be taunted by the new world order. It’s so chooses who will stay and leave and for that we sound the patriotic harmony of community.
town. a word that describes this place I want to get out of, escape from. a word that should describe the feelings of connectivity and comfort. not being weighed down and afraid. by leaving this town I would leave my frightening past and the things I want to forget behind. but i cant.
We found an old map of the United States, and we made a boardgame out of it. And I don’t know how, but it’s three months later, and we ended up where your Monopoly shoe ended up landing. It’s one thing to visit a grand old city. But this place is just what we needed.
A prison in which you are raised in, hazed in, and grazed within. The foul odor of commonality you get from others you dislike for nothing more than a geologic scorn.
This town holds too much.
It holds too many stones
Too many broken homes
Too many bruised souls
Too many worn soles
This town is a collection
Of everything we are trying to escape
But this town is imprinted on us.
Forever.
Forever.
town and country. small town. not where I want to be, but he does. why? always someone to talk about. never much to actually do. where to eat. simple life. breaking rules – not so much. city life for me. or even suburb. but not a town. not a small town. please oh please.
doesn’t matter what town, small town or big town, they are where we grow up and find out about life
A town. The bringing together of the bizarre. The rich, the poor, the happy, the sad and loved and the lonely. The brewer of the most unexpected relationships.
Small towns- always on top of each other the folks there. Gossiping and spreading rumors like wildfire. But it was home. It was like a slightly bigger stars hallow.
A town is filled with many people. Some strange some normal. What makes a town unlike any other town is the people that fill each one. They are the heart and soul of a town and without them the town dies out. So next time you see a town remember it’s a unique and awe filled place with millions of possibilities.
a place. a sad place full of all the saddest people. rundown. woe is the town, and woe are the people.
I go to town every day. See the soda fountain and Mr. Jacobs? Let’s go to the drive in movie tonight. Miss Elizabeth seems nice. It’s 1943 in a small town, it seems like life will never change and is slow. But one day, you’ll miss it dearly.
I lived in a town when I was little. It was beutiful, with full of places to go. There was a park, there was the school…an then my house. Oh how I loved my house. Big, brown and with a chimeney that send heat all over the place. I miss it so much, living in the city is not as nice as many people think.
little town, its a quiet village. every day like the one before. little town full of little people. waking up to say… bon jour!
“No, Aria, wait! Listen to me!” She tried to grab me, and I shoved her away, “No! I don’t want to hear any of this!” I stormed away and walked down the streets of downtown, I cut through an alleyway I checked to see if she was still following me, the coast was clear. I collapsed and burst into tears.
I think of the play My Town– or is it Our Town? My sister starred in this when she was in high school and I was much younger. I remember going to see the show and thinking how professional it was, how proud I was of her. I can’t really remember anything about the play aside from that :-0 Is that a good thing ?
An American utopia. Something that everyone dreams about finding, or escaping. A place where you can find your belonging, or your cage. Someday I dream of finding my own town, someplace far away that I’ve always known.
Town. This town. That town. My town. Which one is it? I live here physically. My family is here and yet I feel like this is not where I belong. My heart is elsewhere. It is where I “grew up,” not physically but mentally and emotionally and most importantly, where I felt most at ease. I might never return to that town, my town, but I will never forget how it felt to be there those short years.
I would like to move. I’ve lived here my whole life. I know everyone here. I would love to just go to a new town and start over. Meet new people who don’t know everything about me. Just start over. That would be nice.
My town is so little, so minute. Everyone knows everyone’s personal life and business. There are no secrets, there is no such thing as privacy. As soon as something happens everyone knows.
I never have lived in a town. I live in the country so I don’t know what it’s like. I used to live in a big city, but that’s different. It ‘s way bigger than a town.
I lived here. I grew up here and moved to the city. The nights were quiet and I used to find happiness in ice cream.
Walking down the long cobbled roads, the smell of fresh salty air tingles in my nose. Nothing is quite like it. Nothing is quite like this feeling
In the town where we came from it was a quite place. The things we saw were of not much coincidence at all. The people that I met didn’t mean much at all or have any where to go. But one day I woke up to look out my window and wonder what is beyond the horizon. I walked out of my door and beyond my lane to the edge of town to find out.
To call it a town is really a bit of an overstatement. It’s really much more like a collection of small wooden houses, planks worn grey by the beating of the cold salty sea air. This particular collection of houses sits on a high, wide cliff, clinging to the precipice like old men, weary with life and looking into the beyond, but not quite ready to let go.