The neon signs blurred as a canvas of color. Benny was lost in the rhythm, his mind a carousel on the grey concrete jungle. The air hung thick. A dissonant tune drifted from a nearby watering hole, beckoning Benny closer. He needed a moment. A pill, small and white, was all he needed. Xanax offered

Across the stretching plains, where the rays of light beat down upon the thirsty earth, stand rows of stark white crosses. They signify a history of loss, a tapestry woven with threads of sacrifice. Beneath them, the vast heavens stretches endlessly, a canvas of vibrant cerulean. The wind whispers t

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