He travelled the old road a lot. Yet, as a child, he got nervous in the pit of his stomach on his way to the village. Once there, he was surrounded with love. It was unconditional. Perhaps it was fear of the unknown?
It taught him to fight intellectually/socially. Bullies and liars still scatter.
On that old road and offshoots, there were family members, security, a neighborhood nest.
There were, of course, family intrigues. Some were not what they should have been. But others made up for that.
The village exemplified that angst. There, good vs evil wrestled. Perhaps that was the cause of his rumble tums. Good won.
At the other end, a baby grew to toddlerhood. He came along at the right time. Good won there too.
That old road was peaceful country, open, growing. It changed.
Now, there is commercial clutter. Strip malls, fast food and suburbs seemed to choke the gentle, quiet way. Same road. Different trip.
He is the last of the family on that old road. But he has a family of his own.
The old road of the past is now the new road of his future.
He is making his own road.
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