I hate to drive to Lincoln county.

I hate to drive to Lincoln county.
So much I loved desperately was lost there or remembered there.
I loved so much so long ago. I've forgotten how to do that.
My daddy, my Angel, my Ben, My Quentin, My papaw.
This old store is just a place off the side of route 10, but when I traveled down a few days ago, I stopped.
His store. My store. My life. Everything.
Shambles. Wrecked. A thing of the past. Somehow standing still, but not really. . .not if you knew it before it all. . .
Much like me, but if you didn't know it before, how would you know when you look? Maybe this place was always a wreck?
Except it wasn't.
And perhaps, a long time ago, neither was I. Perhaps. I forget, and it has been so long.
And so I stopped. I think of times before it was destroyed. Before it was shambles. I think after almost a decade, even I cannot remember back then.