Silver City: The City Itself

“We get a lot of your kind around here.”

Dale smiled from across the coffee shop counter. He looked and sounded like Willie Nelson ten years ago— old, but not that old. It was my second day in town and Dale, the owner of The Tranquil Buzz where I’d been writing most of the morning while nursing coffee and espresso cookies, had just asked me where I was from.  It’s a question I’m not sure how to answer these days: “Where do you live?” Nowhere? Here, but only for like a day or two? I used to live in Utah, but not anymore. Those disclosures require further explanation, usually a thirty-second elevator speech on the gig: sold my house, quit my job, just travelling for the foreseeable future. More questions reveal the why, even though what I tell them usually isn’t the entire story. Still, I was another wanderer and far from unique, especially in Silver City.

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