EXCERPT from Dying Days 3 by Armand Rosamilia:
He had a name, once, and it was Frank. He had a last name, but he couldn’t remember it. His thoughts, at the moment, were on trying to figure out what exactly a last name was.
The noise he heard was the ocean and he moved his stiff neck and looked down to see his shuffling feet kicking up sand on a beach. Frank had never been to the beach. Never felt sand on his toes, but he was doing it now. He was barefoot. He didn’t know why.
Frank couldn’t stop walking. He was being driven by something, an anger… but he didn’t know who he was mad at. He knew he was raging, though, and needed to strike out and rip someone apart. He didn’t know why, but, suddenly, knew it was the only reason to keep…
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