" Balanced between worlds, I sway back and forth. How often the voices call me home, how often I want to give in to the nostalgia, lose my mind chasing the way Autumn's first chill makes me travel in time. I am held here by rusted metal below the surface of my seas. I look up to the trees, the mountain that holds them, to the fog, and I am called. I am pulled.
How light this anchor feels, how strong the current."