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It was silent, not even a mouse stirred as Grant and this mysterious make lived through the abandoned store, rummaged through the shelves and searched for anything they could use. There was nothing, not even food. This part of town was a warzone and they would find nothing but scraps. How...

Through the warehouse and into the streets they would find themselves. How long was Grant down there? Had it been a day? Had it been three? The sun fell already, the skies as dark as Grant’s mind. The streets were familiarly barren, like the corners of Grant’s mind; like the soul that...

The world around him seemed to be spinning and his body was completely weak, convulsive periodically even as his nerves reacted violently to whatever hit him. There was lots of pain; more pain than when he dropped in uninvited and bumped his head. No, this was felt like someone doused him in...

Grant was somewhat mesmerized by this female who seemed to be reaching out. While she was dressed in a grey hospital gown, Grant wore flat footed shoes old and falling apart, torn-at-the-knees skinny jeans with a red and black flannel. His head was still pounding, but for some reason, he did...

Grant was always a trouble maker, even when he was but a young boy. His parents always had trouble keeping him walking down the right path. Grant always felt like an outcast with his chin stuck up to the sky. Other kids would point fingers at him as if he was a dead body and they were poking...