I wonder how many of us have a phantom city from our past? You know that place that you run to and run from in equal measure?
Below, a beautiful and haunting passage from Margaret Atwood's Cat's Eye:
"I'm not like this in other places, not this bad. I shouldn't have come back here, to this city that has it in for me. I thought I could stare it down. But it still has power; like a mirror that shows you only the ruined half of your face."