The Echo Observer

I live outside of a small town about 24 miles from the coast, in the north-east of Scotland. Where the grass is painted green in the summer, drowned in the autumn and buried in the winter. The days are long in half of the year and the days seem to do whatever they want towards the end of the annual cycle. All in all where I live is pretty normal; children go to school during the day then hang out with their friends, the local clichés doing whatever they want to friend, foe or town. The weather is as unpredictable as the people, their emotions, daily lives and routines throwing everyone in their surrounding area off of their game. The town just down the road the town sits upon a hill, its outskirts surrounded by a variety of farms, green lichen filled forests, old crack packed roads, shiny Distilleries where the local economy seems to be driven and a small train station that many of the locals use on the weekend. There are small shops, cafes and restaurants within the town. A beaut...