He was strolling alone in the park, the silence of early morning soothing. Amidst his thoughts was one: 'Will they ever find me?'
He wasn't entirely sure, but his chest and stomach seemed at peace. For the first time in awhile, he wasn't cross-faded as all hell.
The Australian greeted a few birds, robins and yellow-bellies to be precise. His head, floating but a few inches above his head, bobbed as he walked, along with his severed limbs.
His magenta orbs examined the scenery, taking in every minor detail.
Blades of grass swayed in the morning breeze, and fallen leaves fluttered. Squirrels scurried on both the ground and powerlines, pausi