When you are in Monteton, it feels so real. It’s not a dream. It’s real, and nothing else is. At least that is what Mornington said at around in the morning, which was still evening to all of us after the concert on Friday night.
Magic is another word that is often used when describing this place. A few of us were at the breakfast table across from a man that was new to us. I had noticed him taking photographs at the concert the night before, and assumed he was doing a story for the newspaper. But he said he was an artist, staying in Monteton for a time just to paint. He didn’t speak much English, but he did say, “Monteton. . .magic.”
A good friend of mine has heard me pine and whine, year after year, about going back to Monteton. When I returned this time around, she sat me down (over the phone) and said something to the tune of – I don’t want to hear you saying if or whether. You need to just say you are going back, and plan on it and believe it.
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