Defying Main Street

The clouds hang lazily in the sky like little white cotton balls. It’s another slow day in Batesville, Arkansas. I walk into the middle of the street and look at Main Street painted before me. This place must have been the “place to be” in its younger years. Now I only see an insipid landscape. As I look at the gothic buildings, the cracked pavement, and the few elderly people meandering down the sidewalks, I feel stuck. It’s as if the buildings looming overhead will suddenly close in on me, and I will never be able to get out. The signs sticking out of the buildings laugh at me and tell me to get use to it, because I’m never going to leave. The cars parked along the road seem to symbolize each person that has given in and “parked their car” in their own little ruts. I walk back to my car lugubriously. As I settle in to the front seat, a wave of determination washes over me. Suddenly I glare at those signs through my windshield and make a promise to myself that I will never give in. I straighten my back and drive through Main Street, defying every sign that I pass. I don’t look back. I drive forward with the sun shining before me like beacon of hope.