Julie would have died there.

If you can’t change it don’t worry about it.

[…] during one train stop, I watched as another guard with a spirit of empathy, ran out into an apple orchard and picked apples. He carried his jacket like a bag and filled it with...

Taran. We go down fighting.

It’s not unreal to me yet, though it might get that way soon. It still feels very real. And not even horrible — the dead are just the dead. I am convinced that the living...

You know, it set you at war with yourself.