69 Miles Away From Home
69 miles away from home. It’s colder. The fog runs through the sky like ocean waves here every morning. The air smells like moldy mushrooms rushing up my nose, yuck. The community is small and quiet. But it’s nothing like home. Home was loud and dangerous. I’m kinda ashamed of saying that.
Although I refer to it as home, it’s no longer home. Just a place I visit sometimes. I miss my friends & family. The crazy adventures we used to go on. Rocking to the beat of the base from the music from the loud parties, Lord knows we were all too young. liquor bottles, red cups, soda cans. We destroyed abandoned homes, skipped school. Party animals. Although im 69 miles away from the air i’m used to breathing. I feel free. Someone asked how I would describe baltimore. I honestly have no clue. Nothings good or bad about it. But it has and always will be HOME.
This was… really sweet. It really shows that home is anything it wants itself to be. Although your “home” wasn’t as safe as it is where you are currently, and seems to be overall negative from someone else’s point of view, you still see it as your “home”. It’s somewhere you visit, a place where you had adventures, and probably, a place you had fun times at some point. Glad to see you’re in a safer environment now though! Love this piece of writing.
I liked how you used some literary devices in your writing like simile, alliteration, and onomatopoeia.
The opening is so strong – the specific number and the totally relatable description of the morning mushroom fog set the tone. Even though you are torn about your feelings for Baltimore, you description makes it clear that you miss it. Very relatable!