Pillowtown & Blanketsburg

Both places are microwaved into the DNA of my microplastic-laden childhood.

We were architects, engineers, and foremen. Building our kingdoms on the backs of recruited child labor. Driven by our own manifest destiny before we ever learned of Sacagawea third-wheeling with Lewis & Clark.

We stole material from all levels of our domicile during those summer vacation months.

To go back to those stained tan cushioned walls and patchwork roofs with Space Jam frescos and 101 Dalmatians. Nestled in with Nilla Wafers and milk. Remote control in hand.

Oh, what wouldn’t I give to go back.