to go across the country to see his friends, drink, play ball of some sorts, and pretend I don't exist for an entire week. Apparently, there are skunks, opossums, raccoons, and who knows what else, like she says, living underneath the house. The trees have squirrels and many birds, I don't know the kinds, but some are red, some are all blue, some are loud, some fly over my head like they try to hit me or something, unreal. Even the water taste different, wilder and tastier. You don't even have to hurry back, I'll be just fine here with all the skunks underneath my feet.

Source: Huffington Post September 03, 2016 19:30 UTC