The small city was clearly past its prime. The houses I walked past were magnificent, once. Large, beautifully balanced architecture covered in peeling paint. Hedges were overgrown, with many weeds around their bases and throughout the yards.
The neighborhood school felt undersized for the surrounding neighborhood, but oversized for the students it had. Many of the classrooms at the end of the wings were clearly unused, at least for teaching. They lacked the colorful posters and artwork of their active siblings. My feet echoed loudly in that empty place.
The commercial square followed a similar pattern to the surrounding neighborhood. Beautiful facades that had not been washed in many years and weeds growing between the paving stones. There was an old man enjoying a drink in front of a struggling coffee shop bracketed by empty storefronts.
“This was the grandest of places, once. We made the best equipment money could buy, and boy did they! You should have seen it then. Everyone was busy making every manner of things, every last person in my neighborhood.”
“Until the crash,” he continued. “It happened right after I retired. The market just collapsed and people stopped buying. It was the politicians, you see. They passed too many regulations that drove up the cost too much. Crushed all the businesses here. How could they possibly compete with those unregulated businesses from the other city?”
He took a sip from his coffee. “Now the bankers say my retirement money is almost gone, which is absolutely crazy! When I retired, I was set for life! Rich from hard work and thrift! But those bankers, you see, wrecked the savings market. That destroyed so many strong businesses, ruined the city and so many hard working retirees. Now they can’t even find a buyer for my house. It’s worth a fortune, you know.” A sigh. “My son should be here soon.”
“You have children?” I asked.
“Just the one. He moved away. Says he’s doing well in the other city. Doesn’t talk to me much anymore.”
I bid the man farewell as the conversation ended and went into the coffee shop.
The barista was unusually young for this place, maybe mid thirties. We talked a bit as she made my drink.
“The other people my age? They all left if they could. The rest, well, ” she glanced sheepishly around the coffee shop. “There were no opportunities here. Some of us were able to get internships before the crash, but afterwards those went away. Nobody could afford a home here anyway, everything was too expensive, too small, or too far away. After a while, they just drifted away.”
I thanked her for my coffee and continued on my journey.