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... s hard to tell whether it was afternoon or evening; either way, the difference hardly mattered. Whether the small convenience store was open or closed, the empty, rain-soaked streets meant no customers would be walking in.

Yet, the local shopkeeper still sat at his computer, feet propped up, playing a card game. His loose, dull T-s.h.i.+rt hung slackly, looking as if it hadn’t been washed in days.

The posters on the walls had multiplied, spreading like a slow-growing stain until ...

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He once drank a hundred poems on top of tall buildings

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