Found;
A possible solution.
I had returned to Trestlebridge, as promised. I was hesitant to enter the place, as I always am. 'Tis not the burned buildings or grubby people. 'Tis not the sense of despair that permeates the place like a cloying cloud. 'Tis not even the lack of decent amenities that makes me dislike the place so. I've come across smaller, dirtier and more disagreeable places on my travels. Rather, it is the way the people look at me when they remember who I am. I'd really rather they didn't.
