No longer my footsteps

Just arrived on the seven ten,
Thought I’d see the old gang again,

but you know how they come and go,
I’m just a stranger in town.

Ev’rywhere ev’ryone I see
Seems to wonder who I can be


And I swear no one seems to care
About a stranger in town.

I saw a cottage on a lonely old street,
The weeds have grown ‘round the gate.

Somehow I felt that you would wait here,
My sweet, but it looks like I’m too late.
Guess I’ll leave on the twelve o’ two,
Can’t believe that there’s no more you.
Is there nothing for me,
Will I always be
A stranger in my own home town?

Lyrics by Mel Torme

extra with a library card

Me- flipping through papers, photos, and articles...

Librarian- Patiently standing next to me.

Through a black photo album, I flip through pages nonplussed, until I hear a quiet " Oh my!"

I glance up at the slightly shocked face of the little woman standing next to me down to the obviously disturbing picture my hand is resting on. I smile sheepishly.

"They weren't really nice people."

"I see."

Flip to another page.  "But they did know how to dress."

A grin creeps across her face. " That's true!"

I continue flipping.