The Inhabitant

A petulant night visitor returns.

Last Call

The three blocks to his apartment felt like more of a journey than they should have been. Even taking the shortcut through the alley, Antonio couldn't shake the feeling that some immortal god had rearranged reality to spite him. Had he taken a wrong turn? Had he blacked out? No! He wasn't some lightweight teenager anymore. But something wasn't right. He should have been on his street by now. Drunk or not, he knew his way around the neighborhood.

A few shots of the surprisingly cool street art present in this bodunk corner of nowhere Indiana.

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