Todd Stadler's blog

Things don't go

I'm not scared of my parents' house anymore, it seems, and that saddens me. It used to be that coming home was a scary event until I was under the covers, well past any reasonable young age. Someone was always trying to sneak into the garage, so I had to lock everything up quickly. Someone was always peeking in the window next to the front door. Someone was always down the hallway as I crossed from my bathroom to my room. All those people with thier murderous intents, my constant companions through high school and beyond, are gone. Have I grown up, or even lost some imagination? I hope not.

I go home tomorrow. And I'm actually a bit sad about that. And not just because I have to work the day after that.