Strange New Worlds

Chaos in Print

To boldly go where…ah, we all know it.

There is something strange about having grown up in a small town. So many of my classmates had disregarded travel as something they would do in their future. The sun rose and set on this small gathering of communities. The western border is marked by Wildwood. To the east, there is Wabamun. A trip into town means heading to Drayton Valley. And, if you were really in the mood for adventure, you could summon up your courage and head into Edmonton for a day. To so many of my classmates, success meant getting a house right across the street from the parents, and getting a job on one of the many oil rigs that surround the landscape. I was one of the few who realized that there was more to the world than this grouping of villages. I was going to go places, and look back at those trapped in those small towns, and laugh. But, sadly, when so many around you are convinced that there is nothing more to the world than a few villages, you come to believe it on some level. Thus, my first day was a blur.
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