Somebody do something with this please
Nestled in the hills northeast of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, lies the town of Hometown, PA. To call this town of barely 1,400 people "dying" is unfair to the fact that it had been dying since the 70s. Admittedly, the population would swell to some four to five times that number every Wednesday to visit the Hometown Farmer's Market, but to quote another author, it was a place to come from, not go to. But because the universe has the soul of a story teller, this story begins here.
It was dark. A little too dark, in fact. Despite the sun having not quite touched the hills surrounding the little town, it was dark enough for the sun to have already starting sinking below the horizon. It was a subtle darkness, though, only noticeable if you were paying attention.
Sheriff Nick Angelo wasn't paying attention, though. He was focused on the area of forest that had been cordoned off by yellow tape. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his short blonde hair and slowly exhaled. "All right," he motioned to the others. "Let's get these bagged up and taken to the coroner." He paused. "And let's make sure they all belong to the same person," he said as the various limbs were picked up and put into zippered bags.
It was dark. A little too dark, in fact. Despite the sun having not quite touched the hills surrounding the little town, it was dark enough for the sun to have already starting sinking below the horizon. It was a subtle darkness, though, only noticeable if you were paying attention.
Sheriff Nick Angelo wasn't paying attention, though. He was focused on the area of forest that had been cordoned off by yellow tape. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his short blonde hair and slowly exhaled. "All right," he motioned to the others. "Let's get these bagged up and taken to the coroner." He paused. "And let's make sure they all belong to the same person," he said as the various limbs were picked up and put into zippered bags.