He was ready for a change. He had endured four long years of adolescent prison, locked inside a fence for seven hours every day. At home, it wasn’t any better. Under constant badgering and harassment from the folks, he had nearly reached his limit. He needed to get away, away from suburbia of the monotonous lifestyle and the lackluster inhabitants. Away from the Baskin Robbins, serving every flavor of ice cream, including Bloody Nougat. Away from the park with the grimy pond and pigeon feces lining the pathways, like guiding lights on the runway, the pathways blocked occasionally by a homeless person or two. Away from the sky that never seemed to
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