When I was four years old we moved to the town that I still live in to this day. It was 7 hours from Montreal and in the words of my grandmother "the place where God turned his back". Three years later my grandparents moved around the corner from us.
Living in a small town is the only life I have known other than the three years I moved away for college. It's a different lifestyle and frame of mind. Everyone knows your business even better than you do and a word to the wise: if you pass out in a public bathroom with your pants around your ankles you are guaranteed to know each and every volunteer firefighter that is dispatched to rescue your ass. (Please note: this did not happen to me.)
Unfortunately today was a sad day for the town I live in. A young woman was murdered in her home a short ten minute walk from my house. It is a house that Michele and I jog by several times a week on our runs. All day today the police searched high and low through town for evidence and statements. Information was few and far between and continues to be but this was about all I knew as I drove back into town tonight after work.