Brown. Brown eyes. Brown hair. Brown freckles on an overworked face. The worn down soles of failing sneakers hit the concrete softly. Their owner is in no hurry. He wanders on the barren sidewalk, no destination in mind. The simplicity of walking alone is enough.
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It’s 6:47 A.M. and the sun ...
It won't happen in a day. For months, we will watch as you leave us. Your legs will start to shake under a weight too heavy to carry (shrinking bones protruding from luscious fur). Your strong, threaded muscles will slowly disappear (where will they go?). The food you once swallowed so voraciously w...
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