People always identified him as an outsider, but I knew about the miniscule attributes that hinted the mass amount of potential that he possessed. He was quiet, small, soft and also talkative, however strange that may sound. His name was Winston Wolf.

I always knew Winston was something rare, a blessing to come to this god forsaken town. It was as if God had realized that the significance of this town would be unrealized if there wasn’t a vessel to enlighten an upcoming flame. A flame that no one would have expected to be ignited. Yet, this flame was not ignited until the birth of friendship began.

In this town citizens were mannered with nothing, but greed and self-centered ideals. Citizens would rarely greet each other or even come close to contact. They believed that the possibility of contact may be an obstacle in their undying quest for wealth. “Money is the source of all evil”, this town was the catalyst of that exact phrase. That  attitude did ensue with an affluent population. People here did already achieve what they desired, but it was never enough. The thirst of luxury had blinded the cursed citizens of this town. 

I was clueless about the antics of this town. My family just moved from Minnesota, where the general population was the opposite. They were helpful, caring, considerate, and euphoric. Perhaps that’s why I’ve always gravitated towards Winston. He reminded me of how much I missed home. No cadence, cut, cut, cut.