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(We’re supposed to write a description of a place without using adverbs.  Mine’s a bit short, but let me know what you think of the description.  If you can see the place, smell it.)

“I want to go home.” I rested my hand on Mira’s back and she rubbed into it to get me to start petting. The massive amount of bugs the rural south seemed to magically produce buzzed around me, mixing with Mira’s purring as I stroked her back.

“Which one?” she asked, curling her paws under her and shifting to get more comfy on my lap. “Nashville or Salt Lake?”

“Either.” I laughed with no humor. “Anywhere else. Anywhere resembling civilization.  With my friends and family.  At least I have you.”  I scratched her ears and she purred harder.

The overgrown grass under my plastic lawn chair moved with ticks and flicks and I didn’t know if it was from the breeze or bugs so I lifted my legs, propping them on the other chair under the bitty table. The sun burned into my already crispy nose but I didn’t want to go inside, the little house smelled like the rest of the homes in this tiny town, like must and mold.

It gave me a headache.

A car rolled down the one way street with its windows down, blasting some horrible rap-ish not even music noise. I wrinkled my nose. This was a “nice” street, but in a poor small town, that didn’t mean much. The house across the street was a one story model like mine, but big enough to be an actual house and not just a standalone rental no one would ever want to stay a month in let alone make it a home.

Mira’s head popped up and the purring stopped like she hit a switch. “Millie? Where did the bugs go?”

I looked around before I realized what she meant. The bugs had fallen dead silent.

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