Breathing the pleasant spring air, I ambled my way into the familiar cemented path. The bag behind me made a scratching sound against my blue denim jacket as I walked ahead. It was nostalgic to walk this path leading into the Meadow's Pack, my pack that I've missed for more than three years, again.
You can say that the whole place didn't change at all, but it did. I can see the little changes here and there. The newly painted lines on the road, the road signs, and the growing trees thriving on the side. Small details that made a whole, and that small details made changes.
Taking a deep breath once more, I hastened my pace. I've already walked a mile an hour ago. Courtesy of my damn car who decided to shut down on me on the side of the road. I know my way around cars now, but I can't do anything if I don't have extra tires with me. I've already phoned a towing service. Two of the tires were punctured forcing me to walk the rest home. I don't mind it one bit.
