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Between my last entry and the current setting of our tale, there was a rather uneventful day of walking. Somehow, at the conception of my journey, I had imagined that one that had enough perseverance would make it miles simply traveling by foot. And they would... After treading ground for about a day or two. In the eyes of a young man such of myself, that seemed like years. Ironic, considering just how long I would be away after all was said and done.

Kensington was a small town resting comfortably on the edge of my hometown. It was quaint, warm, and hospitable, at least to those familiar with it. On the exterior, though, it seemed like a place that was stuck years behind the rest of the world; nothing but brick-and-mortar stores as far as the eyes could see, with walls worn and dirtied by years of storms and dusty winds. A general store stood in-between the furniture outlet and pizza parlor, its neon sign flickering in the amber sunset. Outside was a vending machine, which seemed to be there for no real reason except to give contrast to the old-fashioned signs and products visible from the store's large front window. Other than that, there was not much to see on that minute portion of the town, aside from the now-vacant buildings peppering the immediate area. On the opposite side of the train tracks dividing the town, however, it seemed an entirely different place. The first thing to catch most people's eye was the gas station, which seemed a tad out of place, as frankly, it was the most "current" placement in the entire town. On top of this, it was also one of the busiest, with trucks and cars passing through stopping by to purchase gasoline, a cold drink, or if their palate desired it, some fried chicken. One would imagine that with a gas station nearby, as they are in this day and age, an old-time general store would not serve much use to anybody. Despite this, the general store carried wide variety of goods ranging from fresh produce to kitchen appliances to fishing gear, which made it something more of a miniature supermarket to those that relied on it heavily. A few streets down from the gas station was a barbecue restaurant, which was a favorite of all that lived there. I myself had visited from time to time, and I can safely say, even now, that it had the best barbecue I had ever tasted (and while this may seem a minor detail, it became rather integral to my journey later on). All that aside, it was the town itself that followed the various shops. Large houses, ornate in their simplicity, with screened front porches and white-washed oaken sidings. Those that were not large were trailers, and while one tactless soul might refer to trailers as "filthy, unwelcome hovels with filthy, unwelcome people inside them", it seemed here to be exactly the opposite. As far as I could see, each of these little homes were taken care of quite well; the ones that weren't were awful, but unoccupied, so it was not much of a loss in that respect. As for the residents, everybody here was amiable. People greeted you with a smile on their face no matter who you were, and while there was the occasional scrap of gossip that circulated at times, people treated each other as neighbors all the time.

It was here, in this sleepy town, that I'd meet one particular soul... One special person who shone through all the others, and whose kindness would set the tone for my adventures to come. I have them to thank for the person I am to day, and were it at all possible, I would still be with them, walking hand in hand down the path of life they helped me to create...