Wednesday, The 12th
Dusk
A BASTION OF EXPERIMENTATION, THIS WEST TEXAS TOWN WAS. It really had not changed much from its foundation, despite the seeming evolution it touted as having undergone: the alleged evolution that was constantly undermined by people who felt rabid and snobbish pride at the sordid history, finding it a quaint little joke. After all, what was history but funny little stories? People did not really exist through the scum of it or drown in it; they were just forgotten, faceless characters.
The irony of his hatred of this place was not lost on him, but neither was it well-founded, as he did not necessarily hate the place so much as he hated what it stood for. A child born in Sodom or Gomorrah was not held to any standard of loyalty to his un-chosen home. As far as Sc
