Day 8: P-Town

Provo, Utah. How can I explain it to you? How its streets are empty Sunday mornings, how Center Street’s hipster vibe sports only one, maybe two, bars and how a bootleg punk radio station crackles on the edge of the FM band (may you live forever, Free Radio Provo!), how rocks in the canyon are thrust up from the earth as though by god himself, how you never don’t know east, and how for a brief couple of weeks the mountains are these verdant giants that hang, glowing, above you as the sun goes down and you sway along at a rooftop concert, and how in my final year I loved it only as one can love it who was once so in it, how sobs choked me as I merged my car, full of stuff and me, north onto I-15… tell me, how can I ever?

(This is Day 8 of a 100-day project. For more about When I Was Mormon, read the introductory post.)