I went to boarding school when I was eleven. Three hours from home.
Oh I’ve been further than that. I’ve been to the South Pacific, three parts of Asia in my twenties. Years later, when I never thought I’d get on one of those sky birds again, I went to Noo York and Rome. Wonderous things I saw. Fabulous fun filled days I spent.
But back when I was eleven, when my father drove down the drive and kept on down the highway to the gates of that hell…that was the furthest I ever went from home. Because – I never went back. I haven’t found it since.
I’m not sure where it is now…but after this next thing is done I can go home. And when I get there I won’t leave again.
written in response to a Daily Post Prompt in my inbox ‘Tell us about the farthest you’ve ever traveled from home’ – when I click on the link to the actual page, spookily, like my home it no longer exists…
here’s that elusive LINK