When we grasp fall for the last time and prepare ourselves for winter, something always ignites a fire within us. We must adventure to some weird town to see what the locals are talking about when the campfire stories start and no one can distinguish what’s real or what’s fiction. This time we went on a hunt to find the site of a man who was murdered years ago while hitchhiking. It happened in the smallest town ever and the gossip hit the town like a bullet. You can’t trust anyone.
In all honesty, winter makes me miserable. I hate the cold, I hate the snow, I hate that the sun only graces us for a few hours a day, and I hate that it drags everyone down as well. In a weird way looking back at photos of things I did before winter keeps me sane. I can almost feel the sun kissing my face at 7 pm or the smell of dew every single morning. Here’s to the beginning, we’ve got a long few months ahead of us.