Sunburst

A story about a small town. Written while listening to Elliott Smith and Death Cab For Cutie

You’ll never know unless you experience firsthand what this place has to offer. Sunburst may seem like just an average Appalachian town to you, but it holds more than you may think. Behind every farmhouse, every failing corner store, is a story. That’s what this really is, a town of stories. There may not be many folks listening, but we’re always happy to talk. It’s a tight-knit community here, everyone knows each other in some form, but what would you really expect in an isolated place like this? We take care of ourselves, and we get by just fine. So, if you feel you’re out of place, like you don’t have anywhere to go, you might think about heading down here.

Take the next train, at night the station emits a certain…aura, like static. You can feel the change before it even happens. You have to be sure about this, once you get to Sunburst, you may not be coming back for awhile. It’s just that kind of place, you get wrapped up in it and sooner than later you find yourself stuck there. Sometimes you can hear ghosts on the rails, shadows of men these towns have left behind. It gives you all the more reason to leave, to start anew. You’ve never really wanted to stay here, but there wasn’t ever much choice. You wanted to go where the horses roam free across the plains, where the autumn moon illuminates the water’s edge. That decision is what prompted you to step onto that train car.

You lie against the wall with the window cracked slightly open, brisk midwestern air filling your lungs, and you finally feel at peace. Power lines drift by at a constant pace, stars and satellites hang overhead. The only light outside is the red blinking of a radio tower off in the distance. You can hear the faint hum of an airplane engine, it’s a small prop plane, maybe a Cessna. It doesn’t seem like it’s got anywhere to go, where could you land in a place like this? You drift in and out of consciousness, the whole train ride feels like a long dream, like a fleeting memory. The next thing you know, you can see it. Sunburst, it’s not quite as big as you would have expected, but there isn’t anything wrong with it. The early morning sunshine casts a shadow over the whole town, you have hope, hope that this little place will be right for you.

You step outside. An out-of-place August rainfall sprays you from head to toe. Flocks of birds swim above you, fighting against the wind. You are instructed to head down to a wooden lodge down the street, and you cordially do so. You are given the deed to an old house up on a hill at the far end of town, the fees had already been paid before you left. You step inside, the strong scent of cedar wood is instantly noticeable. You gaze out the window, the tree line extends as far as you can see. Farms and silos scatter across the open fields. That night, you sit on a fading wicker chair on the front porch. The world sleeps around you, and you can see forever. The perfect silence surrounds you, the darkness only penetrated by starlight, this is what you truly needed.

The following day, you decide to take a walk. It will still be a little while before you’re called on to work, and you figure you may as well get to know your surrounding a little better. You walk down Main Street. You always wondered why every town had one, did they really need to let people know where the center of town was simply because of the name of the street? Thoughts like these come and go as you walk. Citizen’s give you a kind glance, but never speak. You honestly didn’t want them to, not always much for conversation. You sit up on Castle Hill, just outside of town. You notice an abandoned factory, old mining equipment sits, rusting and decaying with every passing second. You wonder why the town doesn’t put it to good use, but, again, the thought quickly passes. You’ve always been more of a thinker than a talker. You try listening to an old AM radio you brought, but you hear nothing but static and passing ambience. Off in the distance, you see two men pushing a small plane, similar to the one you saw on the train, down a field. Plainclothes looking men, nothing too unique looking about them, in the middle of some field in the middle of nowhere, pushing a damn plane. Normally, you’d keep to yourself, but your curiosity gets the better of you, and you choose to investigate.

The two men, who told you their names were Ben and Elliott, crash landed over the ridge, surprisingly, without a sound you could hear. They wanted to move the plane to any form of civilization to salvage it for parts. “Would you care to spend the night with me?” you ask, most likely against your better judgment, but you seem to trust these men. “You’ve saved our asses, at least for now.” Ben replies, grateful at your offer. A certain fear comes through you and stays there for most of the day, constantly second guessing this decision, but despite all this, they aren’t of any harm. The next morning, you shake hands, and they move on their way. The rain has stopped, you think there may be a fire in the distance. Smoke begins to fill the summer sky, more than you initially thought. Some folks might worry about this, but your short time in this little town has brought you serenity you never thought you could achieve, and you’ve learned not to worry.

You aren’t sure of how long your stay will last here. You could be gone by tomorrow, that fire could engulf the world for all you know. Despite this, your time here has been better than anything you can remember. All the world’s problems have disappeared behind the trees. You may be isolated, but you’re happy. You left your sorrow back in the city, now, you are one with the flatlands. The moon & the stars are the only companions you really need. No matter what happens now, it was worth it.