Each man hopes to find peace in his life, in one avenue or the other, but as of late that felt incredibly unobtainable even as a concept for the former Marine. Eugene didn’t talk much about it. How could he? No one ever would every truly grasp his struggle and a man expressing any sort of emotion even after all that was seen as taboo, especially in the South. The place was crawling with toxic examples of what it considered the “ideal male.”

So, the ginger had resorted to long days spent out in the tall grasses of Mobile, Alabama. He’d sit there for hours and just, think. A lot of the time was spent alone, in silence, replaying horrors in his head subconsciously. Each memory gave way to yet another and there was nothing he could do to prevent the onslaught of pain that followed.

The sun was dipping on the horizon and the wind shifted the grasses around him. There was the faint sound of croaking frogs from a nearby stream. If he wasn’t so tormented by his own mind he may have found some solace in it.