“By evening, when the rain began to descend once again, the front lawns of the homes in Strausberg were more like small lakes than a simple yard. The sky had settled into a tea-stained wash, the dusk rolling in at an urgent pace. The once snowy-white clouds of the sky grew heavy, their bellies swollen with what would become a downpour. The trees and rolling landscapes surrounding the small towns weren’t quite in dire need of a drink, but the ongoing storm was enough to quench their thirst for at least another week. Throughout the night, thunder panned over top of a small stone house on the outskirts of Strausberg. The home was nestled between a large willow tree and a sunken in barn that was one breath away from collapsing.”

- The Unminding Skies of Innocence and Guilt.

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