Big Things
Small Town
—
Aaron Burch
THERE’S A TOWN —Casey, Illinois—in the middle of Nowheresville, Midwest known for enormous, “world’s largest” things. World’s Largest Barbershop Pole, World's Largest Teeter Totter, World's Largest Golf Driver.
The kind of thing we’d make up about when talking about a road trip. “If we see a sign for World’s Largest Ball of Twine, we ARE stopping!” “How far is too far out of the way to see the World’s Biggest Pair of Jeans?”
We found it by accident. Middle of a long drive, the freeway signs grabbed our attention. Attractions: World's Largest Wind Chime, World's Largest Golf Tee, World's Largest Pitchfork. Our hyperbolic road trip jokes summoned as real road trip excuse for pit stop.
It was a beautiful day. Sunny, blue skies. Unseasonably warm. I can’t remember if surprising for early spring or late fall, only that it was a surprise. You always used to make fun of my bad memory. I remember that warmth though, even without the pictures.
I want to say I get those photos out to sometimes remind myself there had been happy times, too. Once upon a time.
I want to say I look at them to sometimes remind myself how large the world can be. How small we are in it.
I want to say I don’t ever get them out, I’m not one to look back, I never inject those nostalgia shots straight into my veins, overwhelming myself with wave after wave of memories and sorrow and longing.
I want to say lots of things that I’m not sure I believe, that aren’t true, that I never said at the time.
Sometimes I just like confirming my memories. Seeing all that bright, ocean-blue sky. Charley in shorts, standing next to the World's Largest Gavel. Frankie in a dress, sitting in the World's Largest Rocking Chair. You’re wearing those overall shorts—your shorteralls, you always called them—I always thought you looked so cute in. All four of us standing inside the World's Largest Mailbox. I don’t remember who we would have asked to take our photo. But there we all are together, a good two or three, maybe four stories above the ground. All of us smiling, looking out at our great view of Casey. A momentary, beautiful, joyful discovery of a day, captured in this one pic for forever after. •
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Aaron Burch is a teacher, the editor of a couple lit journals, and the author of several books, the most recent of which, TACOMA, is forthcoming from Autofocus Books in February 2026.
Website | Bluesky
The kind of thing we’d make up about when talking about a road trip. “If we see a sign for World’s Largest Ball of Twine, we ARE stopping!” “How far is too far out of the way to see the World’s Biggest Pair of Jeans?”
We found it by accident. Middle of a long drive, the freeway signs grabbed our attention. Attractions: World's Largest Wind Chime, World's Largest Golf Tee, World's Largest Pitchfork. Our hyperbolic road trip jokes summoned as real road trip excuse for pit stop.
It was a beautiful day. Sunny, blue skies. Unseasonably warm. I can’t remember if surprising for early spring or late fall, only that it was a surprise. You always used to make fun of my bad memory. I remember that warmth though, even without the pictures.
I want to say I get those photos out to sometimes remind myself there had been happy times, too. Once upon a time.
I want to say I look at them to sometimes remind myself how large the world can be. How small we are in it.
I want to say I don’t ever get them out, I’m not one to look back, I never inject those nostalgia shots straight into my veins, overwhelming myself with wave after wave of memories and sorrow and longing.
I want to say lots of things that I’m not sure I believe, that aren’t true, that I never said at the time.
Sometimes I just like confirming my memories. Seeing all that bright, ocean-blue sky. Charley in shorts, standing next to the World's Largest Gavel. Frankie in a dress, sitting in the World's Largest Rocking Chair. You’re wearing those overall shorts—your shorteralls, you always called them—I always thought you looked so cute in. All four of us standing inside the World's Largest Mailbox. I don’t remember who we would have asked to take our photo. But there we all are together, a good two or three, maybe four stories above the ground. All of us smiling, looking out at our great view of Casey. A momentary, beautiful, joyful discovery of a day, captured in this one pic for forever after. •
Aaron Burch is a teacher, the editor of a couple lit journals, and the author of several books, the most recent of which, TACOMA, is forthcoming from Autofocus Books in February 2026.
Website | Bluesky