The air smelt the same. That crisp chill in the wind and familiar scent of the surrounding pine trees surrounded him as he climbed out of the plane.
The pilot asked him if he needed help getting from the airport to his destination but he shook his head, he knew where he was going.
He hiked his duffel bag up his shoulder and slowly made his way down the road.
Unlike his previous visit, he found himself taking in everything about his surroundings, listening to the sounds of the wood life in the trees beside him.
He had been so willing to get back to the big city that he hadn’t realised how large a part of him he had left behind in Cicely, Alaska.
Eventually the flashing neon light of the Brick’s sign came into view over the horizon and he smiled; a strange feeling coming over him as he headed into town.
He was coming home after so many years away.
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