This is an opinion piece from Kallie Krisp. It does not necessarily reflect the views of Waterbank News.
As a reporter covering a number of municipalities, I see all kinds of places. I’ve seen Canton, Harrison, Sunnydale, Lansing, and I hear they’re sending me to Bradford next. All of them have their own feel, and something special. But no matter how many places I go, I’m still a Waterbanker.
There’s something special about the ‘Bank, the crazy fly-by-the-tank-seat place where Mayors have shorter life expectancies than cops. It’s a place where anything is possible, and when UFOs come (seriously, check the WN archive), you fight ’em off.
It’s also a place without a place – at least now. After insane investments in cloning and advanced tech, Waterbank sold off its land holdings, then when things got bad again, sold off itself. Today we’ve got no mayor and Waterbank citizens are living all over the map, like a far flung family. Nobody, even Waterbank Bank, knows how many of us are out there.
As a Waterbanker, I want my crazy family back. I want a Mayor, clad in a bullet proof vest, to watch over us, and I want us to have a place to call our own. I know this call is going out to the wind, but if Waterbank’s listening out there, come on home.