Home Bound to Tennessee
Mar 17, 2012 1:26:15 GMT -5
Post by Elijah Ashwood on Mar 17, 2012 1:26:15 GMT -5
Elijah brought his old Ford run to a grumbling stop as he pulled into the main parking lot at Hammel Institute. It had seemed like ages since he had come here last, but it had only been last week that he had let everyone he knew at the Institute know about his planned trip down to his hometown of Oak Grove, Tennessee, for Spring Break. Fortunately, his spring break at the community college was the same week as Hammel's, and so he had taken the opportunity to let anyone interested in visiting his old country home come with him on his journey. He knew many of the students from his frequent visits to see old teachers, walk the grounds, and perform small concerts for anyone interested in watching. It had gained the twenty-one year old a good group of younger friends, and he looked forward to sharing the trip with them, as long as their parents allowed it. He had also extended the invitation to previous students he knew that were now in college as well.
He hopped out of the partially mud-covered truck and made his way to a bench, where he had told everyone interested to meet him. It was Friday afternoon, so any students that had class should have been getting out pretty soon. His worn-out boots crunched in the gravel, and he fingered the necklace around his neck as he waited for someone to appear. He was sort of an odd image in the high mountains of Vermont, with his faded jeans, plaid button-up, and long, shaggy hair. Even though he had spent the majority of the last eight years in the area, he had never lost or forgotten his roots.
Content to wait, he sat on the bench and stretched out his arms. If he planned it right, and everyone showed up on time, they should be able to make it to Binghampton, Pennsylvania, in about five hours. Not everyone would be able to fit in his truck, though, so he had arranged to have other people drive as well, depending on how many people came. It would be interesting to see just how many people were interested in traveling this break.
He hopped out of the partially mud-covered truck and made his way to a bench, where he had told everyone interested to meet him. It was Friday afternoon, so any students that had class should have been getting out pretty soon. His worn-out boots crunched in the gravel, and he fingered the necklace around his neck as he waited for someone to appear. He was sort of an odd image in the high mountains of Vermont, with his faded jeans, plaid button-up, and long, shaggy hair. Even though he had spent the majority of the last eight years in the area, he had never lost or forgotten his roots.
Content to wait, he sat on the bench and stretched out his arms. If he planned it right, and everyone showed up on time, they should be able to make it to Binghampton, Pennsylvania, in about five hours. Not everyone would be able to fit in his truck, though, so he had arranged to have other people drive as well, depending on how many people came. It would be interesting to see just how many people were interested in traveling this break.
