He walks down the street, past all the burned out houses and decay that was once a thriving neighborhood and wonders to himself, “Did all the people that used to live here have faith too?”
One by one he passes yards filled with debris, old rusted out fencing that used to keep the kids safe. A “Beware Of Dog” sign dangles on one screw, even though there is no sign of life anywhere.
Not sure where to go any more, he is looking for a sign, something that will guide him and tell him what to do now, tell him where to go. How did this happen? How can all these people just disappear? Are they OK? Did they just pack up and leave?
Why is he drawn to this row of houses on Green River Road? He has never been here before yet something is telling him that he needs to figure out what happened to these people so that he can figure out how he is going to move on with his life.
The entire block seems to be devoid of color, everything is black and gray and white and all the shades in between. What happened here? Where to start?
He turns and walks back to the first house, address shows 1708 on the mailbox, might as well start here. . . .